The hand that rocks the Rock
by Marjorie Nescio
Summary: If Tywin Lannister were to choose between his late wife and his dwarf son, there's no question what he'd do. When he gets the choice, Lady Joanna faces a twenty-five year gap as a result. She learns that a lot has changed but that her twins are still the same.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: I know what will happen in this story, but I haven't finished it so updates will not be frequent. If you don't mind that and wonder how Joanna Lannister will play the game of thrones, this is a story for you.

**PROLOGUE**

_This is theft_, the old woman thought in acknowledgment of pulling out some radishes from someone else's kitchen garden. She had begged for some food at the farmhouse but the farmer, a stout red haired man, had told her no. She thought he'd retreated into his stable, but he must have kept an eye on her for he called out: "Thief!"

She started to run. Old she may be, but there was nothing wrong with her legs. Her pursuer was fast though and the sound of his footsteps grew closer. She left the road and ran into some bushes, hoping to shake him off. The grounds rose but she kept running as best as she could, avoiding trees and roots alike. Ahead of her were thorny bushes, and just over the top of them a long line of moving banners. Her pursuer gave up and that was such a relief that she realized a bit too late that the banners should be higher up. She broke through the bushes, fell several feet while screaming out her surprise and fear and landed on a horseman. She and he then met the road. The horse, now bereft of its rider, stood very still.

People dismounted. The woman heard voices but she couldn't make out what was being said.

"I'm fine," the man beneath her spoke. "Get her off me."

And with that the woman was dragged up. The horseman she'd accidentally knocked to the ground got to his feet without help. His expansive cloak was freshly stained with mud and even some duckweed from the swamp next to the small road. He nursed his left wrist and he had the coldest gaze she'd ever seen.

"I'm sorry," she told him. To her annoyance her voice sounded like that of her much younger self: meek and frightened. "I didn't mean to hurt you ser."

She'd only arrived in the west a fortnight ago. It had not been long enough to memorize the shields the noblemen wore, as if she would need that anyway, living among the smallfolk as she did, but she frantically searched for the one shield she knew.

"I know some healing, as the steward of the house with a peacock can confirm. Might I look at your wrist?"

"Kill her!" Cold Gaze commanded.

"What?" she cried out but the hands that had held her arms moved to her neck already. Cold Gaze, confident that his man would carry out his order, got in the saddle again. Though his wrist must hurt, he didn't even flinch. The woman elbowed her assailant and managed a few steps toward Cold Gaze.

"Spare my life!"

"Why would I do that woman."

The woman was held by her arms once more. She tried to ignore it. "I know healing. I could work for you ser!"

"I can employ healers in plenty."

Being a foreigner and a traveller the woman had faced angry people before. Normally she'd protect herself from harm by saying that she knew of potions to ease pain or cure or woo or whatever the mob seemed to need. Right here and now, she tried in vain to get eye contact with those surrounding her. Cold Gaze nodded at her captor and a heartbeat later on two gloved hands circled her neck. The scent of her own urine filled her nostrils.

"Can your healers replace life and death?" she shrieked. She had once sworn never to perform the particular magic unless it could save her life. Back then she'd not believed in its power for her teacher didn't seem to take it seriously herself and during the decades since she'd never heard of it being performed.

"I can exchange someone who died for one who lives!"

_Silly cow_, she scolded herself. _What will this get you? A few more moments to live, that's all._ A mere moment seemed so sweet though and hope floated through her when she saw a flicker of interest in Cold Gaze's eyes. There was something else too. Pain. Longing. Cold Gaze made a tiny gesture and the man behind her took a step back. Now thinking she might actually live another day if she stopped being so frightened, the woman reached into a pocket she kept on her smallclothes. It contained a tiny egg that was heavier than it ought to be and hard to the touch. Carefully keeping it in the bowl of her hand she looked at the man who controlled her life.

"You want to do your 'magic' right now do you? My lady wife died in childbirth. The child lives. Change it."

"Their names my lord?" the woman asked, her voice trembling.

"The child is Tyrion. Its mother Joanna Lannister," Cold Gaze replied. "If you are the deceiver I take you for, I'll have you whipped and then trapped on by my horses until your lying tongue stops screaming."

Everyone in the party looked straight ahead as if they weren't present. The only sounds were from birds and dragon-flies: even the horses were silent. The woman's bowels ached.

"Yes my lord. I will need some herbs…" she said, gesturing at the swamp. Fully clothed she weighed no more than seven stone and she reasoned that she could escape through the swamp for the men wore armour and wouldn't make it far.

"Archers stand ready," Cold Gaze said just as casually as when he'd told her about her punishment should she play him. No further commands were needed: four men readied their bows. The woman felt lost. She walked up to her ankles into the swamp and picked grass and petals of some purple flower. Behind a willow she got some lizard's tail. Glancing at the men she learned that two archers were positioning themselves in such a way that the willow no longer acted as her shield. The water's reflection showed her fearful face.

"Valar morghulis," she whispered. Getting out of the swamp she placed the egg on the useless plants she'd gathered. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't have to see the disinterested faces of those who'd see her die. Bringing the egg to her mouth she whispered the incantation she'd long ago learned by heart. She clung to the 'magic' as if it were a life-saver. After adding the names of Lived Dies and Died Lives, she blew on the egg. It broke and she shivered as ice-cold yolk dripped through her fingers. When her tears had fallen off her cheeks she dared to take in her surroundings. Cold Gaze and his men had vanished.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: compared to _a Song of Ice and Fire_ I changed the timelines a little bit, for what happened in the prologue obviously needed the added magic of Daenerys' dragons. They are therefore newly hatched as the events of this story take place.

Below chapter is partly about Joanna and Tywin and I couldn't resist publishing it on 14 February of all days. Chapter three probably won't be published until the end of March.

**JOANNA**

She was so exhausted that she couldn't even groan when a new wave of pain tortured her. More blood flowed over her thighs. Two assistants of the midwife supported her or she would fall of the birthing chair. There were panicked voices that called for more aid and then, just like that, she was behind her writing desk. The shock of it made her gasp.

'My lady?'

Joanna recognised the voice of her lady-in-waiting but she didn't look up. She touched her stomach, anticipating another contraction any moment. Her stomach was flat. Her hand went down, expecting to feel moist but her skirt was dry. She brought her trembling hand up just to be sure and noticed that it was different. Older.

'My lady? You are not well. I will fetch the maester.'

OoOoO

It wasn't just her hand that looked older: her servants did too. The maester was a man she'd never met before. "You don't recognise me, do you my lady?"

In what must be a feverish dream she shook her head, still expecting to return to her birthing chair any moment. "I am maester Freric, the youngest brother of Lord Toland. I've been here for twelve years now."

"Twelve?" she heard herself repeat.

The maester wanted to know whether she was dizzy or nauseous or had a headache. She shook her head and told him and all others to leave her alone. It wouldn't do to answer questions while she was in reality passed out during labour. She willed herself to wake up for if she didn't she might lose her child. It didn't work. She stared at a letter in front of her. Even in her dream letters had their appeal: she couldn't _not_ read a word here and there. Or a number: 298. She reached out for another piece of parchment and once more took in her aged hand as well as the unfashionable embroidery on her sleeve. The second letter too was dated in 298.

She carefully rose, expecting her legs to fail her, but they didn't. She walked to a window and stared out over green land. At a distance there was a building that hadn't been there a day ago when she'd gone into labour. She placed her cool hands on her stomach and stood there until the door opened. She turned around, knowing there'd only be one person who'd not feel included in being excluded. Tywin too had aged. He looked at her worriedly. "Do you really not have a headache?" he asked as he walked toward her.

"I don't."

"The maester fears that you've lost at least twelve years of your memory."

"It is 298 after the conquest?"

"Aye."

"Twenty-five then."

Tywin used his thumb to remove a tear from her cheek. "I will help you."

"I know. Bald suits you my love."

"So you've told me," Tywin gently said. "Are you all right?"

"I will be."

Tywin brought Joanna's hands to his lips and pressed a kiss on each.

"Did the child live?"

"Is being in labour the last thing you recall?"

"Yes."

"The babe didn't make it."

She leaned into her husband and he held her, caressing her back and hair. His familiar scent soothed her as much as his hands did. "Was it a Tyrion or a Jeyne?" she asked in a small voice that only Tywin had ever heard.

"A boy."

She placed her hands on her husband's chest. "Are the twins alive and well?"

"A knight and a queen," he replied and through his anxiety for her she sensed his pride. She had to stop herself from clenching her fingers in his doublet. "Is Cersei all right? She's protected, isn't she? Please Tywin…"

"She didn't marry Rhaegar."

Joanna gasped. "Nor Aerys," Tywin quickly said. "A lot happened these past years."

"You have much to tell me then."

"I have. But first I will hold you."

**GERION**

Having spent the night at Deep Den, the next morning their party had grown. Ser Lyget Lydden made for the seventh bannerman of house Lannister to accompany his lady. Gerion couldn't wait to see whether the young knight would secure himself a seat at Joanna's table in whatever Linn they'd find themselves that evening.

He was grateful that Joanna had asked him to join her. He glanced over his shoulder to his nephew Tion who'd also been relieved to be included in the company, being Lord Lannister's squire.

"He'll have to do with the fourth son now, poor boy."

Joanna smirked and gestured at those riding near to keep a distance. Gerion wondered whether she wanted to talk about the twins but she asked him to tell her about the noble families of the Westerlands. "I rely on you to provide the juicy details your brother left out," she said. Over an hour passed by as Gerion talked and Joanna listened and questioned. "What do you think of Jaime?" she then asked.

"He's a good lad," Gerion said without hesitation.

"He spends at least half of each year elsewhere."

Gerion didn't say that if it wouldn't be for his children and mother Jaime would barely spend a fortnight a year at the Rock. "He's simply not like you or Tywin. He's more like me. We seek distractions. He may be the Golden Knight, but he's a knight in peacetime. It's not easy for him."

"He'd be a fool to prefer war over peace."

"Yes. But he probably would. At least he handles peace better than his royal brother-in-law." Gerion recalled a night in an expensive whorehouse in White Harbor, where he and another brother-in-law of Jaime's, who'd been there to await the birth of his bastard child, had spent the entire evening and night in bed with a supply of wenches, while Jaime had won thirty dragons playing cards downstairs. "He'll make a fine lord."

"That description doesn't warm me Gerion."

"Have you thought of what sort of a man my lord brother would be without you?"

"I doubt he'll go into history as a kind and caring liege lord even with me by his side."

Gerion snorted.

"Do you mean to say that Elia had an… encouraging influence on Jaime?"

Joanna had always encouraged her little boy, Gerion recalled. Jaime hadn't changed that much over time: he still needed it. "He grew to care for her. But what I meant was that without you Tywin would be a lesser man."

"No. He'd be sharp as steel, but he wouldn't be lesser."

_Steel needs to be tempered Joanna_. "You've brought Tion with you for a reason. His own nephew and look at -" _Look at how he treats him. And look at how he still treats me._

"He does love you," Joanna softly said.

"Family and all," Gerion said with a shrug as if he didn't care.

"Who would have thought that lions have something in common with trouts?"

Gerion was glad to have something to laugh about.


	3. Chapter 3

**JON**

"I bet she wants to intimidate her by receiving her here rather than in a private setting," Lord Renly softly said.

"I don't bet," Lord Stannis replied.

Understanding who the 'she' the master of laws referred to was, Jon glanced at the queen, who haughtily looked at the courtiers from her place near the throne. Her children stood beside her chair. It had taken Jon many years to realize something was wrong, but now that he knew he was astonished that no one else saw it. Then again: the less people understood, the more chance he and Lord Stannis had to right the wrong on their own terms. He wondered what Ser Barristan, standing behind the king, would do if he knew. Would he be an ally?

"It's been a while since you weren't seated there, Lord Hand," Lord Renly said.

"I'm comfortable standing here, Lord Renly," Jon softly and curtly replied. He tried to communicate that it were best to be silent with the king having an audience, but the topic Robert was handling wasn't important and it didn't take long or Lord Baelish asked Varys after Lady Lannister. "What can you tell me about her? She hasn't been here in years, has she?"

"Indeed. It is said that after giving birth to a still born child the lady's health has been poor."

"It has been twenty-five years since that unfortunate day, hasn't it?"

"Yes indeed. But what do we men know about the workings of the female body?"

Lord Renly snorted at that. Like the other Council members he kept his gaze at the Iron Throne and when he spoke he barely moved his lips. "She must be strong enough for the journey now, though Her Grace believes her to travel by wheelhouse. She thinks her lord father sent her away because he can't stand weakness: our queen is convinced that her mother suffered a stroke."

"Ser Jaime believes that Lady Lannister lost her memory," Varys said.

"And she comes to King's Landing to regain it? She hasn't set foot here in years has she? That makes one wonder as to how much of her memory she lost."

"I fear for the worst Lord Baelish, especially since my little birds told me that Her Grace prefers her lady mother to have stayed at Casterly Rock," Varys offered. "When Lady Lannister visited King's Landing to admire the new-born crown-prince, the queen made her leave within a week and she never allowed her to see Prince Joffrey."

Jon recalled that. Back then he hadn't spared a thought for it, thinking it to be a women's thing. Right now Varys's words gave him the shivers.

"Did she?" Baelish said. "It saddens me to think there might be an argument between our gracious queen and her lady mother."

"I feel the same way. We must be kind and helpful to the lady."

"You arrived here after she'd left for Casterly Rock, didn't you Varys?"

"Indeed Lord Renly. But I wouldn't be a master of whisperers if certain tales about her days at the court of the dragons were unknown to me."

The king meanwhile had handled another court matter and the next applicant was about to step forward to plead his case, when the doors opened and Lady Lannister, accompanied by her son, the Grand Maester, Ser Gerion and several nobles from the Westerlands, entered. The court awed at the sight of her.

"She's very well preserved. Maybe she bathes in the gold her husband shits, what do you think Stannis?" Renly asked.

Stannis didn't comment. Jon wasn't surprised that Baelish chuckled.

**JAIME**

Jaime had reminded his sister that she'd felt the need to keep Mother away from court, cautiously leaving unspoken why that was so. "Everything she says now will be considered the ramblings of a crazy woman," Cersei had predicted.

Jaime had escorted his lady mother through King's Landing. On greeting him she had shown more emotion than he was used to her displaying in public: she'd caressed his hair and face and admitted that the last time she recalled seeing him, he'd been seven years old. It became clear though that she was her intelligent self and that made Jaime happy. It wasn't until they'd entered the Throne Room and he saw the dark haired oaf, his glorious sister and the three golden children that he felt a pain in his bowels. Keeping a close look at his mother he concluded that she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Uncle Gerion had never spotted it either, had he? Should mother remark how the princes and the princess resembled their mother, he'd simply joke that in that respect Cersei had something in common with Lady Stark, most of whose children were said to have the Tully countenance.

After welcoming his good-mother King Robert briefly handled the remaining court matters and after that the members of the Small Council were introduced to Lady Lannister. Robert first introduced his Hand and after that Mother greeted the commander of the kingsguard. "Yours is a face that hasn't changed Ser Barristan. I'm grateful that His Grace has you to rely on."

Ser Barristan merely inclined his head in reply, but Jaime sensed that the great knight felt pleased.

"This is my youngest brother, Lord Renly. Master of laws and Lord of Storm's End."

"I heard you being described as the most fashionable courtier and I must say I've never seen a man dress more exquisitely than you do."

Jaime wasn't sure whether or not Mother was mocking the master of laws for her smile seemed genuinely admiring. Renly beamed at her and offered to assist her should she want to get in touch with present day styles. Mother, who wore a gown that was the height of fashion, replied that she would take him up on that offer.

"My brother Stannis," Robert boomed. "Master of ships."

"Lord Stannis. I've heard of your excellence as master of ships. You resemble your lord father in appearance."

"He does, a bit," the king agreed. "This is Lord Baelish, master of coin."

"A man of whom I heard much."

"Good things I hope," Baelish said with a charming smile.

"Absolutely."

"I'd say that King's Landing was deprived of you for too long my lady. Just like Lord Renly I'd like to offer you my services."

"Trying to make yourself likeable Baelish? Beware Lady Lannister he can charm the Maiden herself," the king said.

"I have nothing to fear then," Mother replied. Jaime felt that she wouldn't have said that had Father been present. The laughter of the king, his youngest brother and Lord Baelish caused Cersei, who was the centre of a group of female courtiers, to cast him an angry glance, as if he could be held responsible for the merriment. The royal children weren't present anymore.

"What can you tell me about Lord Varys Your Majesty?"

The eunuch, who'd stood so silently that Jaime had forgotten about his presence, inclined his head for being acknowledged.

"My master of whisperers is my eyes and ears, aren't you Varys?"

"Indeed I am Your Grace. And I hope to be of good service to you. In fact…"

Varys gestured at some foreigners and Robert sighed. "Kingly business awaits. Come Jon, let's see what they want. My lady."

Mother inclined her head to the oaf and talked to the remaining council members. Just when Jaime thought that he'd worried for nought about Mother seeing Cersei's children, Baelish asked whether Princess Myrcella reminded her of Her Grace. Jaime noticed Arryn and Stannis exchange a glance.

"My granddaughter resembles her mother in looks, but she seems as calm as her paternal grandfather."

"Ah!" Pycelle exclaimed. "Well spotted my lady. Lord Steffon was a patient, calm man."

"Perhaps you are too modest Lady Lannister," Baelish said. "The princess might very well have inherited her calmness from her Westerlands' grandmother."

"Modesty is not a trait I'm known for Lord Baelish."

The only one who didn't smile or laugh at that was Lord Stannis. When shortly afterwards Mother announced that she cared to retreat, Varys told her that he'd personally made sure that she would be comfortable. Before Pycelle could delay her leaving Jaime offered his mother his arm. Cersei, on seeing that Mother wanted to walk toward her, turned her back to her to pay attention to some hitherto neglected courtier.

Mother smoothly changed course toward an exit. "Mors, Myra and Alyn gave me presents to hand to you," she told him, nodding at various lords and ladies. If she was aware of the fact that she was the talk of the Throne Room, she didn't show it: she mentioned how kind his children had been to her after her concussion. Jaime was convinced that she had seen nothing to worry about in the very Lannister faces of Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen. On arriving in his mother's apartment he therefore didn't anticipate being kneed in the groin.

"I thought I was tired, but I now feel that the excitement of seeing you and your twin will keep me awake for some time," Mother said, her words covering the cries of pain that escaped him. "Will you join me for a stroll?"

Jaime would much rather hide himself in a snake pit but unfortunately that wasn't an option. His lady mother gave him time to recover by going through her luggage to find the presents she'd mentioned while chatting about her journey to King's Landing. She only stopped talking about that when they'd reached a remote part of the garden where she seated herself on a simple wooden bench.

"There's a lovely sitting area over there," Jaime pointed out, eager to delay the onslaught. His balls still hurt.

"I like the clear view from here. Behind those lovely rose bushes and lovely trees over there lovely spies may hide."

She handed him Myra's letter. "Read this while answering my questions."

It took Jaime a moment to focus on his daughter's words.

"How many know?"

"I don't know," Jaime whispered, not even bothering to claim not to know what Mother was talking about. "The king doesn't."

"Obviously. Varys will know. Baelish too: 'Westerlands' grandmother!'"

_Alyn and I went fishing Father, but we didn't catch anything._

"He's a small man," Jaime objected.

"Your father told me he's cunning."

"How did he respond to your…"

"Don't change the topic boy. Who else might know?"

Jaime shrugged and fell his mother's nails sink into his arm. Gone was the loving mother who'd hugged him at the Lion Gate. Gone was the regal lady he'd seen in the Throne Room. Lady Lannister had turned into a lioness on the hunt.

_I like history classes._

Jaime swallowed hard and for the first time in years he gave the subject a thought. "Lord Arryn and Lord Stannis spent time together these past weeks."

"Doing what?" Mother asked while pointing out a line in Myra's letter and laughing a laugh that was no doubt meant to be heard by some ladies passing by at a distance.

_Uncle Gerion gave me the puppy he'd promised me for my name day. I named it Cat._

"Visiting places in King's Landing, an armourer among them according to Ser Barristan. Going riding."

Jaime answered more questions while faking an interest in Myra's letter, the drawing her twin had made him and the assignment Mors had written about King Robert's victory against the Dragon Prince. "Mother I…"

"You are no doubt deeply sorry. Sorry for being caught that is."

Jaime bit his lower lip, ashamed that his mother was right and that he'd disappointed her. He felt sick to the stomach and without interrupting her he listened to her instructions.


	4. Chapter 4

**MYRCELLA **

On her way to her classes she realized she'd forgotten her quill. She quickly returned to her apartment to get it. It wasn't on her writing desk so she made it for a seat by a window where she sometimes made her assignments. She'd just reached it when a door opened. It wasn't the servants' door she'd used herself, and she feared Joffrey had entered. He'd damaged or stolen her things before and he'd pester her for still being here, if he noticed her that was: this part of the room wasn't visible from the entrance. Myrcella made herself small against a wall.

"What were you thinking?" a woman angrily said. It took Myrcella a moment to understand it was her mother. "She's been here for less than a full day and already you obey her?"

"I've been here too long," a man, uncle Jaime, said. "I was supposed to bring Tybalt home."

"Your queen wants you to stay."

"Our lady mother desires me to leave this very day."

Uncle Jaime sounded determined and Mother stamped the floor, or so Myrcella thought.

"Don't hit me again Cersei."

Myrcella gasped and, fearing she might have been heard, turned red at the idea of being caught eavesdropping.

"Stay Jaime. Stay with me."

"I can't."

"Weakling! Don't leave me alone with him!"

"Mother recalls us as two naughty seven year olds Cersei!"

Myrcella frowned. Had Mother and Uncle Jaime cut Lady Lannister's ribbons, like Joff had done with hers? Would their mother still be angry at that? Mother didn't reply instantly and when she did she only spoke two words, but she sounded afraid. "You think…"

There was a rustling of a skirt, followed by a whispered conversation.

"She won't do that," Uncle Jaime said in his normal voice. "She loves us."

"She never wanted me to be a queen."

"She never objected to you marrying Robert."

"It was not Robert I wanted, just like it wasn't that ugly cow you wanted."

"Don't call her that. Elia was beautiful. She was also a kind woman and a good mother."

"And I'm not?!"

Uncle Jaime sighed. "A compliment given to one woman isn't meant to insult another. You love your children very much. And if you want what's best for your children, listen to Mother."

"I've lived here for fifteen years. I can handle things without her. And what is there to be afraid of?"

"Everything."

More whispering and some moaning too, followed by a man's footsteps and a door falling shut. Mother cursed, then left the room too. Myrcella was puzzled. Was Mother afraid or not? She'd sounded afraid when she'd feared her lady mother, but uncle Jaime had not been afraid of his mother. And yet _he_ was afraid of something Mother didn't fear. But then: she herself feared spiders and Tommen did not while she didn't understand why he jumped at the sight of mice. Another strange thing was Uncle Jaime mentioning her and Tommen and Joffrey. Why? She shrugged and started her search. Stuck between two pillows was her quill. Picking it up she hasted to the door. Her shield stood waiting and followed her to her classroom.

After classes Myrcella, as was her custom, went to the royal sept. To her delight she found her grandmother there, staring at the statue of the Warrior. "I'm sorry Lady Grandmother. I didn't mean to disturb you in your piety."

"I'm not being pious little one. I came here to see if this place revokes memories and to talk to you. We never met after all and I should like to get to know you and your brothers as well. Are you pious?"

Myrcella was startled by the question, which was different from the chitchat or flattery most adults bestowed on her. Grandmother gestured her to sit next to her, but didn't press her for a reply. After giving it some thought Myrcella admitted that she liked the silence and scent of the sept. "It allows you to think things over, doesn't it?" grandmother replied. Relieved that Grandmother had found no fault in her reason for liking the sept, Myrcella nodded. "Have you regained memories Lady Grandmother?"

"I recalled them."

Not understanding what her grandmother meant, Myrcella smiled.

"Sometimes it's good to keep your questions to yourself. But if you have questions for me: ask them. Being in King's Landing made me recall my years here as a lady-in-waiting to Rhaella Targaryen. Seeing your mother and uncle Jaime hasn't made me regain the memories I lost though."

"You don't remember them at all?"

"I do: I remember the first seven years of their lives."

"What were they like then?"

"Sweet and mischievous."

Mischievous sounded too kind to describe ruining things, especially if it concerned Grandmother's belongings. Myrcella felt relieved. "Perhaps you still might regain your memory Lady Grandmother? I do hope you will. I tried to imagine what it must be like to not know about when I was young."

Grandmother smiled. "You're a sweet girl Myrcella."

Myrcella blushed. "Tommen's sweet."

"I plan to find out about that, but I'm sure you're right, just as I am."

Wanting to warn her grandmother Myrcella whispered: "Father doesn't like the Targaryens, do you recall that?"

"Good, you know that at times one needs to be quiet," Grandmother whispered back. Her breath smelled after mint. "Your lord grandfather told me about your father's dislike for the previous dynasty. Your father's paternal grandmother was a Targaryen but I doubt he cares to recall that."

"Did you know her, or father's father?"

"I knew Steffon Baratheon. He was a friend of your Lannister grandfather and I too liked him. Your uncle Stannis resembles him. Oh, before I forget…"

As footsteps were nearing Grandmother produced a sealed letter. "I asked your cousin Myra to send you a message."

"She lives at Casterly Rock, doesn't she?" Myrcella said, holding the letter of her unknown relative as if it were a treasure.

"She does. Do you have a particular friend here, a girl your age?"

"I have Tommen," Myrcella said. A movement at the entrance to the sept caught her eye. Seeing that it was her septa, she rose. "I have to practice my needlework," she softly told grandmother.

"My thoughts are with you," Grandmother replied. It wasn't until Myrcella tried to undo some ugly stitches that she understood that Lady Lannister had made a joke. It made her giggle.

**GERION **

Having escorted his lady to the Great Sept of Baelor Gerion left her there, well protected by Westerlanders even though in this city it barely seemed necessary for a Lannister to have a guard. Gerion took his nephew into King's Landing. For Tion it was the first time in the capital and the boy looked around wide eyed. He'd not been born during Robert's Rebellion and his surname was Frey, but he enjoyed the enthusiastic greeting they received. "Hail Lannister!" people in inns would cry out and they'd raise their goblets: "To the king!" Some men would pretend to fall asleep after that, to general merriment.

"Shall we visit some blacksmiths ser?" Tion asked after they'd spent a pleasant half an hour or so being feasted.

_Make sure Tion doesn't return home carrying a venereal disease_, Joanna had told Gerion. _And do not visit the Street of Steel. _"I'll take you to the Dragonpit."

"Will you go on a heroic journey again Uncle? I mean ser. My apologies."

"We're not at court, so by all means style me uncle. As to heroic journeys, if you manage to leave King's Landing unscratched, you're half a hero already."

The boy grinned along with the red cloaks accompanying them, but Gerion doubted that he understood why. He didn't have much of Genna in him.

"But will you go to foreign countries again soon?"

"If I did, would you like to come with me?"

"If Lord Lannister agrees, I would Uncle."

_Lord versus plain uncle huh?_ Gerion thought with bitterness but as he looked at his nephew, whose eyes were sparkling for being where he was and for the possibility of travelling further, Gerion could only laugh. "If my lord brother can spare you lad, I'll take you with me. My companion of my last travels isn't around after all." Tion would hardly be a replacement for Sandor Clegane, but there was no need to say that.

It was a long walk, if only because it was very warm and Tion, acting like a visitor rather than a squire, stopped often to gaze at things. Their slow pace made Gerion feel various muscles. Unlike his nephew he hadn't yet recovered from the exhausting ride to King's Landing. They bought some garlic bread from a comely woman, who winked at Tion and laughed when the boy turned beet-red.

Halfway the Street of the Sisters Tion winkled his nose in disgust. "That Tion is the stink of Flea Bottom. Don't go there by yourself or my sister will skin me if Lady Lannister doesn't get to it first."

An old man wearing a cloth over his eyes who'd played 'Oh, Lay My Sweet Lass Down in the Grass' changed his tune to 'The Light of the West'. Gerion dropped some pennies in his nap.

They returned to the Red Keep late in the afternoon. Wanting to check on his horse he dismissed his red cloaks and walked to the stables. Tion obediently followed him. Lord Renly stood outside, surrounded by his squires, chatting and laughing with a Bar Emmon and a Celtigar. A handsome stable boy of about fourteen told the king's youngest brother that his palfrey had been taken good care of. Gerion felt that the boy behaved rather boldly. Had the lad addressed Lord Lannister like that, he would not have found a new job until after he'd left the Westerlands. Well, Gerion admitted as he nodded at Renly and entered the stables, _he_ didn't appreciate the boy's behaviour either. He shook his head at having something in common with the Great Lion.

Triumph's beauty had attracted several admirers and Gerion took pride in that. The most daring knights and squires complimented him on his horse before returning to their own animals. Triumph looked rested and didn't lack for food and water. He caressed her neck and a spot behind her ears that always made her whiny. Lyget Lydden greeted him and since the young knight seemed eager to talk to a fellow Westerlander, Gerion asked him how he liked King's Landing. As Ser Lyget shared his impressions, a high pitched boy's voice cried out: "Now! Do it now!" Part of the noise in the stables died away. Another voice started to apologize, but was cut short by the sound of a whip. "No!" the second voice cried out and there was a bang of body against body and bodies falling to the floor. "Get him! Hold him!" the first voice said. There was the sound of a whip and cries of pain. Two boys fighting, well they'd get hurt a bit. Gerion didn't think of interfering for there must be plenty of men watching and one of them would pluck the lads asunder before things got out of hand. When he heard a calm female voice command to stop Gerion, followed by Ser Lyget and Tion, hurried to the spot where the noise had come from. He saw Prince Joffrey holding a riding whip. The boy looked confused, and the stable hands and knights who'd gathered to watch the fight now stood by quietly.

"Grandmother. I can handle this," Joffrey said, raising his whip.

"I told you to stop. Explain what is going on."

Joanna had used her Lady Lannister voice and Gerion wasn't surprised that Joffrey lowered his arm and nervously cleared his throat. "This boy… I told him to saddle my horse. But he disobeyed my order! He felt it was more important to place a stupid puppy in the straw."

Gerion took a few steps forward to get a better view. Joffrey's breeches were muddied and there was straw clinging to his doublet. A stable boy of about eight was held by a knight of the Kingsguard.

"At which point you hurt him."

"Only the dog! The boy then attacked me. So I hurt him too."

"What is your name ser?" Joanna asked the Kingsguard. The man had lost his tongue. "This is Ser Meryn Trant my lady," Gerion said.

Joanna nodded her thanks. "You are holding a harmless frightened boy Ser Meryn."

"Prince's orders my lady."

"You will remember that you are a knight, sworn to protect the weak."

Ser Meryn let go of the boy, who was too frightened to move. "Tion, could you bring the boy – what's your name?"

"Symon my lady," the boy managed.

" – Symon and his puppy to a maester?"

Tion looked panicked and Joanna arranged for a bystander to show the boys the way. The stable boy, bleeding from a nasty cut near his eye, carefully scooped up his softly whimpering dog. Lady Lannister ordered those who didn't have to work in the stables to leave. Several riders, Ser Lyget included, made themselves scarce. Joffrey had recovered enough to take a few steps toward his grandmother. "You've lost your memory Grandmother, but I trust you do know that I'm a prince of the realm and I will not be challenged by anyone, not even –"

The boy stopped talking when his grandmother held his chin between her thumb and fingers. Ser Meryn took a small step back. Gerion felt like laughing, but he repressed it. Joffrey looked at his grandmother wide-eyed. Gerion couldn't see Joanna's face, but whatever it was her grandson saw there made the boy stammer an apology.

"Accepted. You will also apologize to Symon and hurt him no further nor have him hurt. Don't think he's just a stable boy. You were wrong and hurting your future subjects will not endear them to you."

Letting go of Joffrey Lady Lannister turned to Ser Meryn, who swallowed hard. "The prince no longer feels like riding Ser Meryn. Please escort him to his chambers."

"Would you believe that I'd planned to spend some time with Joffrey?" Joanna asked Gerion as they walked to her apartment. Ahead of them and out of earshot walked the prince and the White Cloak. "This isn't what I had in mind. I read every letter Cersei sent over the years and I'd come to expect a second Aemon the Dragonknight. Ser Meryn isn't his shield, is he?"

"No, he isn't. That honour falls to Ser Todric Dondarrion. Myrcella has a shield from the Westerlands and Tommen's shield hails from the Reach."

They took a short cut through the Throne Room and were met there by Lord Stannis who, after curtly greeting them, addressed Joanna: "My bannerman Lord Velaryon informed me of the state of his property. He asked me to pass you his and his sister's respectful greetings."

"Thank you Lord Stannis." The master of ships inclined his head and was to leave, but Joanna stopped him with a question: 'I was told that Lady Daenera was my ward for some time. She's part of Lord Valeryon's household?" Stannis nodded. "I learned that she and I got along well. Do you think she might be prevailed to visit me at Casterly Rock? So far I haven't regained my memory but perhaps she might trigger it."

"I could write her brother if you like."

"I'd appreciate that Lord Stannis."

"I didn't know he had that many words in him," Gerion said when the two of them were on their way again.

"He strikes me as a thoughtful man."

"That's one way to put it. Did my lord brother remind you of Lady Daenera?" At Joanna's nod, Gerion asked: "Does it upset you that you still don't remember?"

"Of course it does," she said, looking at the floor and leaning on his arm at bit heavier than she had. Behind their backs courtiers whispered along.

**JAIME **

Three days later than his mother had commanded Jaime and his men made to leave the Red Keep.

"He likes her!" Cersei angrily whispered so the red cloaks in the courtyard wouldn't overhear. She wore a hooded cloak: this early in the morning it was chilly.

"Who likes who?"

"The oaf likes mother! What does she have that I don't?"

They both looked at Lady Lannister, who stood at a small distance talking to Jaime's squires Oberon Wyl and Hendry Bracken. Jaime reasoned it couldn't hurt if he and his twin parted in anger. "Do you desire his friendship?"

"Ser!"

Jaime grinned at his enraged love. He taunted her some more: "She doesn't yell at him or treat him as if he's a cockroach."

"She ought to: he's been unfaithful to me from the start."

_And you repaid him, like a good lioness does_. "Mother knows how to handle kings. You might learn from her." His arm received a slap. "Wrinkles!" he warned. While his sister's features grew smooth again her eyes continued to speak daggers at him.

They watched Mother talk to the captain of Jaime's red cloaks. "She asked me about my life after my seventh year. She really didn't have a clue. She tried to make me like her by reminding me of my swordplay. As if she wasn't the one who put a stop to that." Jaime knew it had been by their father's order that Cersei had been given a needle instead of a wooden sword but he refrained from commenting Cersei's cherished grieve. "And she asked whether I'd ever picked up on her offer to learn to throw knives instead. Ha! What is a knife to a sword?"

After inclining his head to his lady the captain mounted his horse.

"Ere the week is done I will have made sure that she's on her way back to Casterly Rock. I'm not afraid of her."

_Yes you are_. _You were terrified when I let you know that she knew and you nearly lost your water at dinner yesterday._ Jaime knew that Cersei had the same incident in mind when her next words were: "She should stay away from the way I raise my children."

"I think she has a good influence on them."

Mother approached them and Cersei's lips curved into a smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**JON**

But for the innkeeper and his wife the place was deserted. Still Jon and Stannis, disguised as knights, spoke softly and when they were being served they talked about armour mostly. When horses approached Jon continued to talk about their plan but as soon as the door opened he focused on his soup. Stannis, who must have a gullet made of iron, had finished his already. A man in a brown tunic without livery or sword entered. "Is there a smithy near?" he asked the innkeeper.

"Aye. Half an hour's walk north from here. Horse lost an iron?"

"Not yet but my mistress feels it soon will. My thanks," the man said and he left. Jon took his last spoonful of soup. He'd never spent a lot of time with Stannis but he'd come to think that if only Robert was a bit more like his brother, he'd make a fine king. They softly discussed the loyalties of the Kingsguard and Jon was so caught up in it, that he didn't notice the door open again. Moments later on hearing the rustle of a skirt he smoothly said: "I've seen knights wear armour that made them look like peacocks."

Stannis, who wasn't one for improvisation, nodded and looked up at the innkeeper's wife while making a gesture that she could clear up. His jaw clenched. Jon wondered what the woman had done to anger the master of ships. He too looked up. She was all alone, without a single red cloak to attack him or Stannis. She smiled and seated herself on a stool. The innkeeper came over to attend his new patron.

"My horse is close to losing an iron. You can imagine how glad I was to be near an inn. And to find you here sers! It must have been two, three years since we last met."

"May I serve you mistress?"

"How's that soup Ser Charles?" Lady Lannister asked Jon.

"Fine," Jon managed.

"Some soup and bread please."

The innkeeper left. Lady Lannister looked around the inn. The building had known far better days but the straw on the floor was fresh enough. The lioness looked at the ceiling and eyed every beam. She stamped the floor and the result seemed to satisfy her. Eyeing him and Stannis she softly said: "You question the parentage of my daughter's children." For a moment Jon thought he must have misheard but the look on Stannis's face told him he hadn't.

"I lost twenty-five years of my memory, but not my wits."

Jon forced himself to breath in deeply. "What do you plan to do?"

"I'll wait for my servant to return with my newly shoed horse. In the meantime I'll enjoy your company and my soup. It smells good!" Lady Lannister complimented the approaching innkeeper.

The man carefully placed the bowl in front of her and she gratefully looked up to him. The previous day in the Throne Room Joanna Lannister had appeared more regal than her daughter but she now looked and acted like a merchant's wife. She wore a grey cloak of a thin fabric that was travel-dusted and her hair was arranged in a modest way and a bit dishevelled from travelling. How did she find us, Jon thought. Lady Lannister's only jewellery was a plain small silver ring. Even the spoon she produced did not reveal her to be the wealthiest lady in Westeros. The innkeeper left to busy himself in his kitchen.

"Tell me what _you_ plan to do."

"We are gathering evidence and we'll present it to the king," Stannis spoke determinedly.

"It is likely that he will kill my children and possibly my grandchildren. To me that's unacceptable."

Stannis was about to speak but Jon silenced him with a glance. "What do you suggest?"

Lady Lannister swallowed a spoonful of soup, wiped her lips with the back of her hand and roughly tore off some bread. She even ate like a commoner. "You won't inform the king or anyone else. My son returned home this morning and is to stay there. Joffrey marries Shireen Baratheon."

Jon's lips parted in surprise.

"By rights I should sit the throne," Stannis muttered angrily.

"Yes. But there's no lost love between you and your elder brother: your younger brother might be appointed as his heir. I heard he's popular among the smallfolk."

Jon was shocked to think he hadn't thought of that either. Why would Robert care for the proper order of succession? Had he ever spoken a kind word to his most deserving brother?

"Whatever happens my daughter will deny the accusations and my lord husband will not believe your proof and call his banners to defend his kin. There will be a civil war. I want peace. The marriage between Joffrey and Shireen will assure that."

Stannis frowned. Lady Lannister ate some soup. "Skipping a generation _is_ a sacrifice," she gently said. "But where _you_ would gain a land torn by war, your daughter and grandson will inherit a peaceful prosperous realm. And until then you can serve your good-son in the Small Council, perhaps even as Hand."

Lady Lannister calmly finished her soup, occasionally chatting about such things as the weather and the condition of the roads. Stannis resembled a statue but Jon suspected there was a lot going on behind his impenetrable exterior. The innkeeper brought the stew he and Stannis had ordered. Out of his own accord the man had turned it into a three person dish.

"Might take your man a while at the smithy's," the man said. "Thought you could do with proper food mistress."

"This soup was fine and the scent of your stew makes me want to eat more. You're a good host, my thanks."

It wasn't until then that Jon noticed that all the while Lady Lannister had spoken in a King's Landing accent that fitted her disguise. For the remainder of the meal Lady Lannister shared her additional plans and Jon got used to being called Ser Charles occasionally. The taciturn master of ships wasn't bothered with a fake name.

**ROBERT**

Why isn't there any wine here? Robert thought. Stannis was informing him about the state of the fleet and though he tried to look as if he were paying attention, Robert's mind drifted to more pleasant things: two lovely new sisters he'd tasted at Chataya's. What were their names again? Nya and Norina? Mia and Mirona? The things the one with the shortest name could do with her hands...

Stannis's lips had stopped moving. "So you desire more money," Robert said, making an educated guess as to why his brother had been boring him about his visit to the docks. Stannis frowned, so either he'd guessed incorrectly or the man was simply in a worse mood then he usually was. Robert was glad when he saw Varys enter the room where Stannis had cornered him. The eunuch made an apologizing gesture and was already on his way out when Robert summoned him in. Stannis's expression didn't improve.

"Your Grace. Lord Stannis."

"What is it Varys?"

"Nothing Your Majesty. I was merely on my way." The eunuch held a book. "I was to bring this to your good-mother."

"What's it about?"

"It is my own copy about the Battle of the Trident."

"Ah! I told her about the battle a few days ago."

"Indeed! If you permit me: it is pleasant to have her here."

"Ha! And entertaining as well! You should have seen the queen's face and her brother's at Ser Jaime's farewell dinner."

Varys smiled. "She's a charming lady."

"With a skin made of Valyrian steel no doubt. Still she's quite attractive."

"You're not the first king to notice that Your Grace."

"Aerys huh?"

"The Mad King was rather… enchanted by her."

"And he took liberties during her bedding so I heard. My good-father killed him for that."

"But no Your Majesty: Lord Lannister slay his liege because of him threatening to set the city afire."

"What are you nodding Stannis?" Robert said. "You weren't there."

"Nor were you Your Grace if I may be so bold. And how could you be? You were valiantly fighting other dangerous enemies."

Robert recalled how, on his victorious march to King's Landing, he'd imagined how the townspeople would cheer him. Men would admire him, women would go weak in the knees and offer themselves to him. Fucking glorious, that's how it would be. And what had he seen? Green fires. Thinking the city to burn, he'd hurried along as fast as his tired destrier could carry him. He'd seen flags flowing from towers: the Stag. Somehow the city was his and yet it wasn't.

"I bloody well did. I could have fought some more though: Lannister should have left Aerys for me."

"The city being in danger made Lord –"

"Seven Hells Varys," Robert angrily interrupted. "To kill you need to stab only once, not a dozen times."

"The Battle of the Trident will forever be remembered in this realm and beyond I'm sure. I – "

Robert made a gesture to stop Varys from finishing his line. _The Others take him! First he brings the topic up and then he tries to set my mind of it. Damned eunuch. Damned Tywin Lannister._

"I wondered back then why that – Lannister didn't take the Iron Throne for himself. The city-folk would have supported him. I might not even have challenged him: I rather hold a sword than sit on a chair made of them."

Robert paused to allow Stannis and Varys to say something flattering. Stannis eyed him intently while the spymaster could only come up with: "The Demon of the Trident!"

"I asked my good-mother about it. She said that Lords Stark and Arryn would have expected me to go through with the rebellion, so her husband seizing the throne would have caused another civil war and the country couldn't bare that she said. She wanted peace she said and didn't need a crown. I guess all she wanted was Aerys to stop breathing."

Stannis frowned. Varys shivered. "Talking of death always makes me uncomfortable Your Grace. I'm not a fierce Baratheon warrior after all. I'm not even much of a horseman. I believe that you and the Lord Hand encountered each other yesterday while riding Lord Stannis?"

"We met when I returned from a visit to a dock."

"What did you talk about?" Robert asked, wondering why Jon hadn't simply urged on his horse on sighting Stannis.

Stannis held up the report he'd tried to hand him before. "I took the opportunity to discuss this with Lord Arryn."

Robert sighed. "Does he agree with you?"

Stannis nodded.

"You could have told me so before and spared me the lecture. If Jon thinks it's a good idea, I'll support it. First I'll need wine though."


	6. Chapter 6

**ROBERT**

Myrcella en Tommen were playing a ball game in the garden and they waved at him and their grandmother. Robert nodded at them while his good-mother, who wore an enticing perfume, waved back. Robert enjoyed the walk and not just as a way to infuriate Cersei. Lady Lannister always responded to what he had to say without trying to change the topic. She'd nod or show surprise or smile and he found that he liked having an attentive listener who wasn't aimed to please him.

"Stannis told me he sent for Shireen. He thought it would be good for her to have other children to play with. Said her only friend now is a lackwit fool. It would be good for Myrcella too. And for Tommen. He might finally find a boy to befriend, instead of spending so much time with his sister."

"It's good when siblings get along Your Grace. Young Robert Arryn might become Tommen's friend?"

"Ha! I admire Jon, but his son… Shall we walk under those trees?"

"Let me walk on your other side so you may benefit from my parasol. There we are."

Enjoying the shadow Robert continued: "The Hand planned to send his son to Dragonstone to be fostered there. Now that Shireen is coming here that plan's off the table. Have you heard how Lady Arryn responded when her lord husband mentioned it to her? Varys told me all about it. She hadn't known and the thought that her lord husband would send her son away without discussing it with her, enraged her. She even threw a beaker at him!"

"No!"

"She did! Between you and me: Lord Stark married the better Tully sister. Jon's too gentle with his wife."

Realising what this implied, Robert coughed a bit.

"Cersei told me that you're planning to marry Joffrey to Lord Stark's eldest daughter."

Relieved that his good-mother didn't question him about his own marriage, Robert confirmed this.

"A Baratheon-Stark bond will , or so I imagine, give you personal satisfaction."

_She sounds… understanding? _

"My daughter is not Lyanna Stark," his good-mother continued, "though from the stories I've heard about the Northern lady they were both active girls: riding, fighting with swords."

"Swords? Cersei?"

"You didn't know?"

Robert shook his head. Cersei with a sword was like… Stannis with a whore on his lap. Lady Lannister smiled, a bit sadly, Robert thought.

"Well, a union between Stag and Wolf will work out well," his good-mother said. "Myrcella will make Robb Stark a good wife."

Robert nodded, then got to his senses. "What?!"

Where most people would have flinched at his displeasure, his good-mother merely smiled at him and a sweet smile it was. "Joffrey isn't quite ready to wed I'd say. Your northern namesake is a bit older."

"Myrcella is younger than Sansa Stark."

"She's a dear girl and she'll make the North love her."

_My blood would rule Lyanna's land and Myrcella won't find a better good-father than Ned. _Robert found himself smiling. "Myrcella for Robb then? I'll have it discussed in the Small Council."

"Why don't you a_nnounce_ it in _today's_ Small Council."

Robert guffawed at the thought of how the Councilmembers would look.

"She can leave in less than a month," his good-mother said.

"Are you trying to upset Cersei? She loves her children, I'll give her that."

His good-mother didn't respond to this feeble praise other than by saying: "So do you. And so do I."

Robert knew Cersei would rage, but with any luck the bulk of her rage wouldn't be directed toward him. Robert managed to keep his expression neutral. "A month. Is that enough time to send her off as befits a princess?"

"Let me handle that for you. Costs and all."

Robert smiled. There was something exciting about the twinkle in his good-mother's eyes.

"I suggest you say that you'd like Myrcella to marry a week after her arrival in Winterfell Your Grace."

Before Robert could object Lady Lannister added: "You are right to think she's too young. Yet there will be opposition. And in such a case one needs to be able to compromise a bit."

They'd reached the shadow of a wall and Lady Lannister took down her parasol. She gestured Ser Barristan, who was one of two White Cloaks guarding him, to come near.

"Let Cersei talk you into Myrcella leaving _in a month's time_ to become Robb Stark's _betrothed_," she said in a whisper. "The couple can marry when she's six and ten."

_The bloody Saviour of King's Landing faces her on a daily basis_.

'Bwahaha,' Robert roared.

**JON **

Baelish and Renly were just talking about the number of ravens in Casterly Rock's rookery, when Ser Barristan and the king entered. It had been many months since Robert had graced a meeting of the Small Council with his presence.

"Did the country run out of wine and women Robert?"

"There's plenty of that left Renly," the king said with a smile.

"I'm glad to see you here Your Majesty," Jon offered.

"Just the once probably. Sit my lords. Let's keep this short. My Hand will have told you that I'd like to have a Baratheon-Stark union."

"He did indeed. I hope you've not changed your mind about that Your Grace?" Pycelle asked.

"I decided to marry Princess Myrcella to Robb Stark."

"How joyful!" Varys exclaimed, but Jon had not missed the eunuch's expression of surprise, however briefly it had appeared. Baelish was seated at the other end of the table and by the time Jon could steal a glance at him the master of coin was smiling as always. He was sure that those observing _him_ would think him to be surprised and he was though not by the new alliance but by the speed with which Lady Lannister had cleared the way for Shireen after he and Stannis had told her that the weather was too warm to their liking.

"I thought that you planned to marry the prince to Lady Sansa," Renly said.

"Indeed Your Majesty," Baelish chimed in.

"I did my lords. However my good-mother felt that Princess Myrcella is better suited to marry than her elder brother."

Renly grinned. Pycelle voiced his agreement and Stannis and Ser Barristan nodded.

"I for one am glad that children of my wards will be united in marriage," Jon said.

"When will the joyous event take place?" Renly asked.

"Myrcella will move to Winterfell soon."

"I'm sure Lady Stark will welcome the princess most warmly. But will she have time to prepare?" Baelish said, his words laced with concern.

"Do ladies ever have enough time to prepare?" Renly said.

"With the honour bestowed on House Stark, other Houses will need to be considered when it comes to the marriages of the princes," Varys advised the king.

_Why would he say that?_

"We agree on that Varys. Who do you suggest huh?"

"Hasn't Lady Lannister made any suggestions?"

_Ah: to pry._

"Prince Tommen's too young by far. And Prince Joffrey didn't exactly endear himself to his lady grandmother."

"I assure you Your Majesty, had I known who would be the culprit of the prince's prank, I would not –"

"No need to turn red Grand Maester," the king interrupted. "I believe you. And more importantly: so does my good-mother."

Baelish whistled the first tones of 'The Rains of Castamere' and Renly laughed at that. Pycelle flinched but the king grinned and added: "We don't need her for more matchmaking."

_I will work him, but it will take time_, Lady Lannister had said at the inn. Jon could only hope that Stannis didn't take his brother's words as a sign that the swift lioness would be prevented from fulfilling her part.

"Indeed Your Majesty. Royal marriages should be handled by the king with the Small Council's council, not by a lady, even if she is who she is," Baelish said. "Is it true that the Mad King was besotted by her Ser Barristan?"

The Commander of the Kingsguard looked uncomfortable. "He had a wandering eye."

"Seems like something kings have in common," Renly jested. His playful tone failed to bring a smile to the king's face.

"The lady refused his attentions!" Pycelle burst out.

"When will the princess leave Your Grace?" Jon quickly asked.

"A month from now."

"So soon?" Renly said.

"The girl will have to marry one day. And if I tell the queen the princess will leave in a year's time, she'll be mad with me for a full year."

Through Renly's laughter Stannis gestured at some paperwork. "May we enter the first topic of the meeting?"

The king rose. Jon, though glad that the first step had been made, was a little disappointed that Robert didn't stay.

"Go ahead my lords. Lord Hand, will you write Lord Stark about my decision? I'll tell the queen about the upcoming marriage and then I'm off hunting."

**RENLY**

It amused him that the Lannister bitch and he sat together as if they were friends.

"I dare say that I'd not expected my brother to be as blunt as not to tell you about his idea before announcing it in the council. Sweet Myrcella to leave King's Landing so soon!"

"This isn't his idea," Cersei hissed. "My lady mother came up with it. Robert wanted to marry Joffrey to the eldest Stark girl."

"You think she hasn't forgiven the prince for his… prank?"

Cersei looked at him as if he were dim-witted. "Of course she has not. She may say that Myrcella will in time help her husband rule half the kingdom, but that's just to placate me."

"Surely she 'paid her debt' and won't intervene anymore?"

"She'd better not."

"You must miss Ser Jaime," he said kindly.

Cersei tilted her head as if she wanted to seek him out. He gave her his best compassionate look and her features relaxed. Well done Renly, he praised himself.

"I do. He felt obliged to obey her command. Did you know she gained weight? She isn't as slim as she used to be and she always dismisses the lady's maid I gave her before she retires for the night. She probably doesn't want anyone to see her ageing body. "

"She surely isn't as youthful as you are," Renly replied. Cersei smiled as if he'd just declared her fairer than the Maiden herself._ Women! Just wait until the Southern maiden arrives._

"If Lady Lannister thinks her orders trump mine, she's mistaken."

Renly said forward a bit. "You mean to play her?" he said with a hint of admiration in his voice.

"Among others I'll send a message to the Bloody Gate to demand Ser Jaime's immediate return. His son can travel to the Rock for all I care."

Renly nodded. "Or… you could summon him to King's Landing as well?"

For the first time since the bitch had married his brother they shared a laugh.

Renly wanted Ser Jaime near when the king learned of his wife's incestuous affair for that way it would be far easier for Robert to cut off the Golden Knight's head. Having young Tybalt around would show that Lannister blood mixed with other blood didn't result in golden haired and green-eyed children while not having control of his eldest grandson would keep the Old Lion in check. Even Baelish wouldn't have thought of that!

"I was wondering," Cersei said. "I need to prepare Myrcella for her journey north. Might you be willing to spend some time with Tommen today? His father doesn't have much time for him," _Being on his way to the Eyrie_, "and he could use a male companion."

_And childless me would become so fond of him that I'd appoint him as heir to the Storm Lands. That will never happen you bitch. _"Of course my queen!"

Though not particularly looking forward to be Tommen's play-mate Renly decided he'd better get it over with. Outside Tommen's rooms his shield stood in front of the open door along with a red cloak. The former was to announce him, but Renly, hearing a familiar female voice, shook his head. Ser Tymas Moreland looked uncomfortable but Renly whispered: "It's so endearing hearing the prince chat," and that made the shield smile.

"The Mad King had killed the father and brother of Lord Stark, who was Father's close friend. I don't know why, no one tells me, but I think it must be because he was mad," Tommen was heard to say.

"That sounds logical."

"The Mad King then wanted to burn Father and Lord Stark but Lord Arryn said no. He raised his banners, see?" the boy said. "I see," Lady Lannister replied. "But how did Lord Arryn become involved?"

There was a short silence. "He fostered Father and Lord Stark."

"Ah: they were under his protection."

"Yes!" Tommen happily said. "And then Father secured Gulltown and he went home to call his banners. Lord Stark did so too, so then there were three armies to fight the Mad King. The people in the Reach supported the Mad King, that's why I gave them dragon banners, see?"

Renly nodded at Ser Tymas, who knocked and announced him.

"Uncle Renly!" Tommen cried out. The boy seemed genuinely pleased to see him, which made Renly think that sending him to Old Town to become a maester or shipping him off to the Wall would be kinder than having him killed. Lady Lannister, elegantly seated on a cushion on the floor where Tommen's miniature armies stood, kindly smiled at him. For a woman her age she was slim still. Renly asked his nephew for permission to join them and the boy immediately entreated him to sit down. "I was just telling Grandmother about the Reach Uncle Renly. She said that my grandfather told her about it, but that she didn't quite get it."

"It _is_ complicated. Perhaps you might enlighten me too. What about the Reach?" Renly asked, keeping his voice serious, but winking at Lady Lannister when Tommen bent over to add some horsemen to the Baratheon troops. Lady Grandmother gave Renly a genuine smile.

"The Reach supported the Mad King."

"How naughty," Renly said. Tommen giggled. "What about Dorne Tommen?"

"They didn't help the Mad King but they didn't help Father either."

"They weren't the only ones who acted that way. The Prince of Dorne is a cautious man, just like the Warden of the West."

Tommen cast a glance at his grandmother, who, to Renly's slight disappointment, calmly nodded. "They kept their hands to their chest, didn't they?" Tommen said. Another nod. "That's what Father says, but what does that _mean_?"

Renly was about to laugh aloud, when a pleading look from Lady Lannister prevented that. She smiled gratefully when instead he pretended to cough.

"When you play cards and you keep them to your chest, like so…" Lady Lannister picked up a miniature banner and held it against her upper body, covering it with the back of her hand and her slender fingers, "…your opponents will not be able to steal a glance at them."

"Making it impossible for them," Renly clarified, "to anticipate your next move."

"Which is good?"

"Very good," Renly said. "But do go on with your history class. I find it interesting."

Lady Lannister nodded and smiled. A little more praise for Tommen and he'd have her eat from his hand.

"Father and Lord Stark and Lord Arryn fought battles and they won most. The ones they lost weren't that important I think."

"They never are," Renly commented.

"Then Father met the Mad King's son and he killed him. And all armies went to King's Landing…" Tommen started moving miniature knights to some red bricks that passed for the capital. With some white chalk the boy created a gate in front of which he placed a Lannister banner. "But Lord Lannister got there first. The walls of King's Landing are powerful and it would have been difficult to enter and there were gold cloaks to defend the city from enemies. But my grandfather told the guards that he was there to help the Mad King. Do you think that's how he said it Grandmother?"

"Methinks he would have styled him 'His Majesty'."

"Or the Mad King would have gotten mad, wouldn't he? The king believed him and the Lannister troops entered. The gold cloaks fell asleep because they were tired and then the red cloaks could just walk to the Red Keep. Uncle Jaime went to see if the crown prince's wife was all right and he defended her when some mean men wanted to hurt her. But first he and Lord Lannister went to see the Mad King who told them he was going to burn the city with jars. Grandfather killed the Hand, who was good at setting things on fire using jars, and then he killed the Mad King and he got rid of the jars and he raised Father's flag. The end."

Renly and Tommen's grandmother applauded the boy. They were stopped by Tommen crying out: "Oh no. I forgot. Father then wanted to travel to a tower in the north of Dorne but Lord Stark went there instead and then Father and Ser Jaime went to Kingspyre. Father killed some knights from the Kingsguard, I think because they belonged to the Mad King's Kingsguard and they weren't heroes and my uncle Jaime valiantly fought the Sword of the Morning and he took his sword but he didn't kill him and he returned the sword. Father said that it pissed my grandfather but Mother said Dawn is overrated and Brightroar is much better. I forgot to tell that Father and Uncle Jaime and Lord Stark were looking for his sister, Lord Stark's sister, who was in the Harrenhal tower, the Kingspyre. Not in Dorne. I hope someone told Lord Stark for it is a long way to Dorne. But there was a pyroman in the tower and he set it afire so he died and the sister too. Father said it was a sad day."

The boy looked at the ceiling, moving his lips as if he were going over a list. "Yes. That's the story!" he concluded. Renly led the applause once more.

"There's a lot I don't understand," Tommen admitted, "but Mother said she'd tell me about it when I'm older. Father then said that she wasn't to defile her memory. Is that what happened with you Grandmother? Did your memory got defiled?"

"No little one. It got lost."

"A sad thing indeed Lady Lannister."

"There are worse things Lord Renly."

_Dead twins. Three grandchildren who are declared bastards… Myrcella might still marry Stark's heir but she doesn't matter._

"And joyful ones too: knowing that you've arranged for a wonderful husband for your royal granddaughter."

"She is a sweet girl."

"Do you have marriages in mind for her brothers too?" Renly asked Baelish's question.

Lady Lannister tenderly glanced at Tommen, who'd continued to move his little knights about and who was softly humming to himself. She shook her head at Renly and lipped: just look at him. Renly nodded. For a son of Cersei's Tommen was remarkably kind and soft. "And uhm, Symon's opponent?" he said. Lady Lannister's smile disappeared. "He's young and he'll learn. In a couple of years…"

"I could find out if my bannermen have eligible daughters? We could go over it together?"

Lady Lannister seemed keen for a moment but she sighed and shook her head. "I've gotten involved too much as it is."

"Your debt is paid?" Renly said with a wink.

Lady Lannister cast her eyes down in shame. "For the next weeks I'll just enjoy being with my family."

"Will you leave soon?"

"I'd like to see Myrcella off."

"I don't like it that she has to leave," Tommen tearily said. "And I don't want to have to go away myself."

"You're not leaving Tommen," Renly said, curious to learn whether Lady Lannister had told the boy about plans concerning him.

The boy's lower lip trembled. "Won't I Grandmother? Joff said that when our uncle Jaime was nine he was sent to Lord Yronwood to be fostered and that I would be fostered in Dorne too. Or if they wouldn't have me there I'd be shipped off to Skagos," Tommen continued in a whimper.

Renly barely succeeded in keeping his laughter in. Imagine that boy on an island filled with barbarians and some said cannibals. He would last less long than he would on the Wall.

"Your brother has an odd sense of humour sweetheart. Your parents and uncles are very busy but you may always come to me instead of worrying about Joff's stories. Will you promise me that?"

Tommen inhaled deeply as if to gain strength and nodded.

"Good boy," Renly said. Weak and soft as Tommen was, Renly preferred him over Joff, who had the Lannister pride without backing it up with any qualities whatsoever, much like Cersei. Renly got to his feet, claiming to have to do some council work. He greeted the incestuous offspring and the slut's mother and walked to the exit. He heard Tommen repeat his complaint about Myrcella's departure. In the doorway he cast a last look behind him. The boy was sobbing in his grandmother's arms and she was rubbing his back, whispering sweet nothings into his ears no doubt.

_Baelish is a fool to worry._


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note - In response to reviewer Moshi: do you find it unlikely that a single person's presence changes the outcome of a war? (for that's how I read your review). If so: apart from the fact that Robert still came out victorious, Joanna being alive resulted in the betrothal of Jaime and Elia Martell. There was therefore no reason for Dorne to choose the side of Aerys Targaryen. The Sack of King's Landing didn't take place because Joanna persuaded her husband to present Baratheon with a prosperous rather than a plundered city (and where Cersei was kept at the Rock, she didn't have the opportunity to make Jaime join the Kingsguard).

JOANNA

"You will be mine bitch. Lay down and open up for the Dragon," a voice whispered.

Joanna's eyes flashed open. Of everything she'd forgotten, this she remembered. The words weren't the same, but they were similar enough. Until she'd moved a piece her nights in the Red Keep had only been disturbed by her own worries. _Not anymore. There's always a countermove._

"You're just a whore," the voice whispered with venom.

Joanna pressed her upper legs together and touched the knife in the shaft on her left arm. _Threaten a woman to destroy her home and you can call her a whore when she stops fighting you._

"Lions are nothing to dragons! DOWN!"

The sound of a whip made Joanna hold her breath for a moment. _Perhaps I should tell Varys that Aerys didn't leave permanent marks on _my_ body? Despite his claims to the contrary he was frightened of Tywin._

Between her encounter with Aerys and going into confinement she'd not said a word about what had happened to anyone. She hadn't asked Tywin whether they'd talked afterwards, in the years now lost to her.

The voice started to moan and that sound, more than the improvised words she'd heard, sent Joanna back into the past. Her heartbeat increased and with some difficulty, for her hand was trembling, she took a kerchief from the pocket of her night dress and pressed it to her nose. Tywin had worn it on his chest before sending it to her and though the scent that remained after a journey of several days might be imaginative, his token helped her through the night.

GERION

The girls looked healthy and the place was clean, with cotton sheets free of lice. It wasn't Chataya's but the boy couldn't afford that anyway. Gerion nodded at the brothel owner, a woman with a scar on her neck. "First time?" she guessed. Gerion smirked. From the way Tion was hopping from one foot to the other you didn't need to be a mind reader to conclude that. "A woman in her early twenties, youthful yet accomplished would do him good," he softly said. The woman nodded and beckoned a red haired girl nearby. She had long legs and a small waist and looked quite innocent, which was mostly due to her freckle covered nose and cheeks. Gerion gestured for his nephew to come close. "This is Daisy," the woman told her young client. Tion could just stare. Daisy smiled and took his hand, leading him to a small corridor. Gerion handed the woman some coins. "She's all paid for Tion. Enjoy!" he cried out. He then made it for the neighbouring inn. He'd barely seated himself or a slender man with a small pointed beard entered. After looking around he smiled at seeing Gerion. "Would you mind if I join you ser?"

"By all means do Lord Baelish."

"It's a surprise meeting you here. I would have guessed you to frequent fancier places. But then: you will find a warm welcome all around King's Landing." His words were confirmed by some arriving patrons saluting Gerion and singing the first lines of 'The Lion bit the Dragon'. Fortunately they quickly took to drinking again.

"I wish I'd been there," Baelish mused. "Such a glorious day. It is said that your esteemed cousin was the one who came up with 'The Toast'."

"In those days, who knows."

"She changed after her concussion?"

When Joanna had warned him that people would make inquiries disguised as concerned questions or chitchat, he'd thought her to be caught in memories of Aerys's rule. Still, he trusted his cousin and he felt that Sandor Clegane, had he been here with him, wouldn't have been pleased by the master of coin's appearance. With Baelish keenly observing him Gerion recalled a night in Myr when he'd won a game of poker from a man without eyelids. He bit his lower lip, a trick that had served him well back then. "She has."

"She hasn't lost her poise, or so the Grand Maester keeps telling me. Poor man."

Gerion smiled at that and drowned his drink. Baelish gestured at the innkeeper, who wordlessly provided them with more ale.

"She handled the prince admirably, though if she weren't who she is… You were there weren't you?"

"I was."

"On both occasions?"

Gerion frowned as if he had to think. "Ah yes. You refer to the incident in the stables. She seemed herself there. She still hasn't regained her memory sadly enough." Gerion was sure that Joanna was up to something and grateful that she hadn't trusted him with it: that way he couldn't reveal things that needed to remain a secret. He fed Baelish some information Joanna had shared with him in the Red Keep: "She's inviting former companions to Casterly Rock in hopes that they'll trigger it."

A man started to play 'Fifty-Four Tuns' on his lute and Baelish had to talk straight into Gerion's ear. "Young Tion, who won't be so green ere the night is done, will be delighted to meet his mother there."

_Joanna's right. He is a mockster_. Gerion laughed and raised his drink to salute Baelish. By the time the song was done, their goblets had been refilled once again. "I'm sorry for having interrupted you," Baelish said. "You were telling me about the way your liege lady changed."

"I believe you spoke to her. I should like to hear your opinion of her. What did you talk about?"

Baelish smiled pleasantly. "She was impressed that at my age I'm master of coin."

"Rightly so," Gerion said, raising his drink once more.

"Thank you ser. Let's see if I can recall our conversation. Ah yes, she asked me why I wasn't using my House's sigil."

Gerion hit the table. "I wondered myself!"

"I will tell you, as I told your lady, that once upon a time I saw a maiden bath in the river and then I heard a mockingjay. Your lady said it was romantic."

Gerion sighed.

"What is it dear ser?" Baelish asked. "Have I said something wrong?"

"You haven't Lord Baelish. It's just that your words make me think of… She used to… Romance seems to be on her mind these days. I fear she longs to find _me_ a wife. Me!" He shook his head in disgust. Baelish burst out laughing.

JON

As Jon was waiting in the Small Council's meeting room footsteps neared. "You've had another conversation with Lady Lannister?" Baelish asked.

"Aye. Brief though it was. She appreciated my work for the crown," Renly replied, sounding as if admiration for his person was a matter of course.

Knowing that any moment now the men could enter Jon, not quite knowing what prompted him to do so, closed his eyes and dropped his chin on his chest.

"Lord Hand," Baelish greeted him. Jon heard him take a few steps toward him.

"Asleep," Baelish whispered. Renly made a throatily sound of amusement.

"What else did you talk about?" the master of coin softly asked.

"She asked me whether I thought her grandchildren would like it if she took them for an outing. Of course I said yes: I can't wait to learn what Joffrey will do to anger her on the occasion." Jon detected a smile in Renly's voice.

"What do you make of her?" Baelish asked, placing some files on the table.

"A feast for the eye like her bitch daughter, but hardly as formidable as the old goat describes her."

"Could you spend time with her? She's buying Myrcella a trousseau. The two of you could visit seamstresses and the like?"

"I wouldn't tolerate him at home_,_"Lady Lannister had said about Baelish, back in the inn where she'd explained her plans. Jon, feeling a bit offended by her criticism, had told her that the man had his uses._ "_So does cow-dung_,_" the lady had said._ "_I wouldn't sit in it_._"

Jon jerked his head to add some flavour to his sleepy state.

"The old sot," Renly whispered with contempt. "She'll be charming company for sure, but why invest time in granny Lannister?"

"She might… change things."

"Change, change… That thing with Myrcella being a bride instead of Joff being a groom that's because she was pissed with the boy. She's not a lioness but a pussycat."

"The Lion sent her a shield."

"Because his son left and Ser Gerion is not as good a swordsman as Ser Jaime. The Old Lion wants his property protected."

"Perhaps. Stannis's daughter will arrive tomorrow, or today if the winds are favourable. I'm not sure she doesn't have a hand in that."

"So you mentioned," Renly softly said. He sounded impatient. "I heard that she questioned Myrcella about having friends her age here. There's no more to it I'm sure. Still, I told Stannis that it's unfortunate that Shireen's supposed companion will soon move north. He barked that if he'd known of Lady Lannister's plan he'd not have summoned the girl."

"Did he?"

Jon was impressed by Stannis's lie. Well, it was not unsimilar to what he was doing right now. He worked some saliva to his lips.

"Still… Have I mentioned I acquired new staff from the Summer Islands?"

"You did? Of course if you want me to spend time with the lady, I'll gladly do that. By the Seven look at that. Pathetic."

The distinct sound of Ser Barristan's footsteps neared. Jon 'woke up' with a jolt.

"No need to blush Lord Hand. We all know your job is a demanding one," Renly said. Had Jon not heard him talk he'd be fooled into thinking that the young lord was all kindness. He mumbled a bit about refreshing naps, wiped his mouth and – his cheeks red with anger, not shame – busied himself by seeing if his quill needed sharpening. He longed for the Eyrie. Mountain clans were better to handle than the likes of Renly and Baelish.

ROBERT

"Isn't there a meeting of the Small Council now?"

"Yes there is good-mother."

Instead of complaining that he ought to spend more time ruling the country, like her daughter did on occasion, the fair lioness gestured at a flask. Robert nodded. He rather liked it that his good-mother personally poured him a drink, not that she had much choice: there weren't any servants around. The two of them were comfortably seated on a lawn under a huge parasol. At a distance his squire Tyrek and two White Swords stood by as well as his good-mother's shield.

"It barely ever happens that I come across a man who's taller than I am," Robert told his hostess.

"I think the same applies for Ser Gregor," she dryly replied, handing him his drink. Robert grinned and drank deep. He could barely keep it in.

"Gods be good, what is this?!"

"Cold tea. Don't say yuk, it's good for you. A king shouldn't be a drunkard."

Before Robert could respond, Lady Lannister added: "Did you know that your people are styling you the Fat King? I prefer Demon of the Trident."

"Fuck!"

"That's part of the problem. The only muscle you use these days."

"Seven Hells woman! Do you speak to your lord husband like this?" Robert thundered.

"I don't need to," his good-mother calmly replied. "He doesn't run his lands by drinking, hunting and whoring."

Robert didn't know what he would have done had he seen anger or contempt on the lady's face. She sounded matter-of-factly though and despite her harsh words it was as if she wasn't criticizing him.

"More tea?"

He automatically held up his cup. His good-mother poured herself a cup too.

"It's refreshing on a warm day as this. I broke my fast with Tommen. He's a sweet boy."

Robert, glad for the distraction made a disapproving sound. "He doesn't care for fighting."

"If you taught him, he might gain an interest. My grandsons at the Rock love it when their father practices with them."

_If I do that, I might regain my stamina. The Mountain that Rides is a mountain too high for now, the Seven be damned, but Tommen I can handle one-handedly. Hells, with a single finger._

"Joffrey would surely be eager if you sparred with him."

_I could handle Joff as well. The boy is growing to be tall, but he isn't half as muscled as I was at his age._ Robert nodded at his good-mother, who smiled in reply.

"How's Tyrek for a squire?"

"He's doing fine."

"And Lancel?"

Robert shrugged. "No complaints."

He drained his cup, having forgotten what it contained, and managed not to make a face. "Do they really call me the Fat King?"

Lady Lannister nodded. Robert looked at his stomach. Beer and rich food. Ah, but they tasted so damn fine! He glanced at the Mountain. It was one he needed to conquer.


	8. Chapter 8

JAIME

Hendry suggested that he'd ride ahead to secure rooms in the inn.

"We'll find lodgings all right. No need to hurry along," Jaime replied. _A Bracken might meet a Blackwood hereabouts and what good will that do?_

His other squire inhaled deeply and smiled. The air smelled of water, horses, mud and the little flowers that grew in hedges beside the road.

"It's better than the scent of the capital, isn't it Ron?" Jaime said.

"It is ser," Oberon replied. "One gets used to it, but I prefer the scent of land and water over that of King's Landing."

"Sweat, pee, shit," Jaime said. _Will I still say that if I'm Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West and Shield of Lannisport?_ "And in some parts of the city guts too."

"And courtiers," Hendry said. He immediately tensed, but Jaime laughed. He could do without courtiers himself but where his sister was, they came along.

"Should we unfold our banners ser?" Ron asked as they neared the Inn at the Crossroads.

"No need for that lad." _Imagine Father calling his squire that. _

Without the Lannister banner his party of no more than twenty barely distinguished itself from a group of merchants with their sellswords that was just leaving. Jaime told Ron to arrange for lodgings and he dismounted, handing his reigns to Hendry. The boy made it for the stables.

"Came you from the Eyrie?" Jaime asked the departing group. His red hooded cloak was covered in mud and didn't boast even a single embroidered lion. After giving him a quick glance the eldest of the merchants continued to check whether his saddle bag was attached properly but he did reply: "Aye. I see you have swords with you ser and you'll need them."

"Are the Mountain Clans at it again?"

The man grimly nodded. "We lost one man."

"But we avenged him," one of the sellswords said. He was in his early forties and had a northern look to him. "There are three Painted Dogs less now. Be careful if you care to travel there ser, they'll be angry."

The party left and Jaime entered the inn, where despite the mild weather a fire was lit. Some Dornish looking people were crowded around it. One of them had a tall, slender frame and black hair with a few silver threads through it.

"Brother?"

The man turned and his face lit up in pleasure on seeing Jaime. They embraced, with every guest in the inn watching and whispering. Twenty minutes later Jaime had freshened up in the room Ron had secured and he and his good-brother shared a meal there. Jaime learned that Oberyn had visited Tybalt on his way back from White Harbour.

"He gained muscles and he's unaware that every maiden and every woman swoons at the sight of him."

Jaime wanted to laugh but Oberyn continued: "Just as Elia did when she looked at you."

Jaime received a manly pat on his shoulder and he knew that Oberyn loved him for believing him to have been faithful to his sister. _Thank the Seven that Oberyn never visited the capital when I was there._

"She left four beautiful children," Oberyn said. Jaime raised his goblet at that.

"To Elia."

"To Elia!" Oberyn said. He drank deep. "Now tell me: how are my other nephews and niece? How are Lord and Lady Lannister?"

"The children and my father are fine. My lady mother lost her memory."

Oberyn's expression turned worried and Jaime was quick to reassure his friend that his mother's intelligence hadn't suffered.

"I'm glad to hear that!"

"She came to the capital, to see if seeing us would return her memory. She lost five and twenty years."

Oberyn looked pained.

"Spending some time with me she concluded I'd better leave for the Bloody Gate to bring my son home," Jaime said with a self-conscious smile.

"Will your lady mother be there for some time more?"

"She said she'll stay for a month at least, just in case she'll remember something."

"I think I'll visit King's Landing before returning home."

Jaime smirked as a thought crossed his mind.

"What?" Oberyn asked, tearing the leg of a roasted chicken.

"I was thinking of my father receiving word of your changed plans."

Oberyn smirked. Lord Lannister had disliked the Dornish prince ever since his first visit to the Rock and over the years he hadn't seen cause to change his mind despite or perhaps because of the fondness his lady wife held for the Red Viper.

"How's Melara?"

_And that's another reason why Father can't stand him. _"About to birth Ser Forley another child or so Mother told me."

A serving wench brought them a flacon of wine. Oberyn grinned. "Like father like son," he softly said once the girl was out of earshot. Jaime had noticed the way the wench had looked at him, but it left him indifferent.

"You will not bed her ever again," Mother had commanded in the Red Keep's garden. He'd nodded in obedience while thinking of a loophole."And if you think that fucking her against a wall or taking her on all fours on a floor or spilling your seed in her as she mounts you on a chair means that you obey me still, think again," Mother had warned him.

Oberyn, misunderstanding Jaime's flushed cheeks, gently said: "It has been many years Brother."

Jaime attempted a smile and asked after Oberyn's paramour from White Harbour. "Does she still look after Melara's daughter?"

"She does and she's mothering another Hill and a Rivers too." Seeing Jaime's amused expression Oberyn added: "From just before the time I met her. You should try this sauce."

Jaime obediently dipped his bread in the green substance.

"How did the queen respond to seeing her lady mother?"

Unable to tell Oberyn that Cersei's breach with their mother had to do with her wanting to keep her children's parentage a secret, Jaime had, years ago, told his inquisitive good-brother that his twin disliked the fact that his mother had opposed her marrying the Targaryen prince as an explanation for the rift between mother and daughter.

"As gracious as one might expect," Jaime dryly replied.

"So you're bringing Tybalt to the Rock?" Oberyn changed the topic. Jamie, chewing his bread, nodded.

"I'll lend you some of my men. We were attacked and the one who survived might be gathering friends. You'll recognize him by the …"

"Horse breeder!" some voices came from the common room.

"… rather nasty scar on his forehead."

Whinnying sounds floated up as well as those of things being smashed to the floor. The good-brothers smirked and rose to participate in the fun.

MYRCELLA

"A picnic is for children," Joff complained.

"No it isn't. It will be nice."

Myrcella was already on horseback, seated in front of her shield Ser Ted Serrett. It felt good to look down on her eldest brother who was waiting for his horse to be brought to him. When she'd been told about her betrothal, one of the first things she'd thought was that she would be away from Joff. "There's Tommen too." _I'll miss him._

She waved at her brother who was excited to sit on a proper horse, rather than on the ponies he'd mounted so far. He too shared a horse with his shield. A stableboy brought Joff's palfrey. Myrcella wondered whether it was the boy who'd gotten whipped. Joff, seeing grandmother exit the stables on her Dornish mare, loudly thanked the stableboy, who looked as confused at that sign of princely gratefulness as Myrcella felt on hearing it. She touched the hairnet of black and gold grandmother had gifted her. On seeing herself in the mirror that morning she'd been pleased with her appearance, but on seeing her beautiful elegant grandmother she felt like a common girl in comparison. It didn't lessen her smile in the least.

Accompanied by grandmother's red cloaks and ser Hugor Jordayne of the Kingsguard they set off into King's Landing. Myrcella, who barely ever left the Red Keep, looked around wide-eyed. People hailed grandmother. When a little girl waved at Myrcella she smiled and waved back. There were musicians who played merry melodies but as they got further away from home there were also very poorly dressed people, many of them missing even more teeth than the Lord Hand and some lacking a limb. For these people grandmother had a smile and kind greetings too and Myrcella smiled as well. On entering a street where it smelled after bread and fruit, grandmother commanded her guards to stop. She gestured Joffrey to come close. "I recall that this baker makes wonderful pies," she told him. "Will you help me make a selection for our picnic?"

Joff was startled by the question, but he dismounted and aided grandmother off her horse. The people, kept at a small distance by some red cloaks and Joff's shield, were delighted. As grandmother and Joffrey made purchases from the bakery and from some marketeers as well, Tommen told a man whose beard was a white as Ser Barristan's that grandmother was taking them on a picnic. "She said we wouldn't need cutlery!" he excitedly shared. It caused people to laugh but not in the way Myrcella had heard people laugh at court. After the goods were loaded on a packhorse, they continued their journey. 'Long live the princes and princess!' the old man cried out and people cheered at that. Joff kept riding next to grandmother, who occasionally pointed things out to him. Myrcella envied her brother his spot, but she reasoned that he needed to make up for his behaviour and that this ride gave him the opportunity to do so.

RENLY

He and Lady Lannister had spent an hour in Reeking Lane where Renly had taken her into various shops. Renly acknowledged her to be witty at times, as well as charming and beautiful. He was still sure that Baelish was making too much fuss about her. The master of coin, on learning of the successful picnic, thought it possible that Lady Lannister wanted to make the smallfolk like the princes and princess, especially because the Hand had announced that Myrcella had chosen to spend the allowance that was her due as a princess to buy an education for three common maidens from King's Landing for every year coming. It was no secret that her grandmother had come up with the idea. Word of 'Myrcella's Three' was already buzzing around in the city.

"Shall we have a luncheon? I know a suitable place," Renly suggested. Soon enough they were seated in a private room in a richly furnished establishment.

"Dear Tommen told me all about your picnic," Renly said. He didn't have to raise his voice for the walls were thin. "He was very enthusiastic about you and his brother buying food in 'real streets'."

"I'm glad. I recalled the pastries and I thought the children might like those too and they did!"

Servants entered to bring them bread, cheese, a salad and various other food.

"Did the taste of the pastries bring forth memories?"

"So far nothing has. At least not from the years I lost," Lady Lannister said. She shook her head at a servant who offered her wine. Renly did accept the beverage.

"Perhaps Ser Jaime might have evoked some memories in you by now?"

After a moment the lady responded: "You mean to say that I shouldn't have sent him away? Perhaps not, but it was about time he left for the Bloody Gate. Such an awful name, don't you think?"

"Indeed. How shall we style it?" Renly said as the servants left.

"The Mountain's Foot? But that's hardly original I admit. Widowmaker?"

Renly grinned: "It is that. I imagine you'll look forward to seeing your eldest grandson?"

Lady Grandmother beamed at him. "Oh yes. His brothers and sister told me about him and so have Ser Kevan, Ser Gerion and Lord Lannister. I was told that he's the spitting image of Ser Jaime -," _That's a shame_. "- though inward he resembles his uncle the Prince of Dorne. His brother Mors – have you visited Casterly Rock in the past years?"

Renly shook his head, enjoying his toast with mushrooms. Lady Lannister had helped herself to a slice of bread with cheese.

"Of course not: being a member of the Small Council requires all of your time: it barely allows you to travel."

"Unfortunately not. Your grandson Mors?"

"Oh, you wouldn't be interested," the lady said.

"On the contrary, not having children myself doesn't mean that I take no interest in other people's offspring."

"You handle children well Lord Renly, I do hope you'll be blessed with them one day."

_You'll want to reconsider that: they will replace your grandchildren. _"Mors is Ser Jaime's second son isn't he? Does he look like his handsome father?"

"He's got his hair and his mother's colouring. He longs to be a squire."

"Ah yes. The king told me about that: he's to squire for Ser Arthur Dayne, isn't he?"

Lady Lannister seemed discontented. "Ay. I told my good-son in confidence though."

"Then be assured that I will not tell anyone about it," Renly said, fully knowing that word had spread already. "Ser Jaime also fathered twins didn't he? Do they look like him?"

Lady Lannister swallowed her bite of food and replied: "Myra looks just like the late princess of Dorne. Alyn only inherited his mother's hair. The twin's ambition is to catch a fish that's taller than they are."

Renly laughed. _There you are Baelish. If she'd concluded that the three chits are Jaime's, and she plans to protect them, she wouldn't have entered this revealing topic._

"They have in common that they are sweet," the proud grandmother chatted. "They were very supportive after I had my concussion and it can't have been pleasant for them to learn that I didn't know anything about them."

"Myrcella and Tommen are sweet too I'd say," Renly said in between bites.

"And Joffrey seems to warm to me. He was very kind yesterday."

_What a shame._

"All three of them told me about their lives so far."

Renly smiled at that. _Time for another topic_. "It must have been nice for you to see Ser Barristan again."

"It was. I'm glad that a man like him chose to serve the new king."

"He's not very talkative."

"You may thank the Seven for that Lord Renly. I imagine that between the Grand Maester and Lord Baelish the meetings of the Small Council last long enough."

Renly smirked and decided to sting the master of coin. "You don't approve of Littlefinger's verbality?"

"I doubt the nick-name does the man justice: being a master of coin at his age he can't be little."

Renly could just picture Baelish's pleased countenance.

"I didn't mean to say I dislike his verbosity or that of the Grand Maester," the lady continued. "It's good that there are different sort of men to council His Majesty."

"No two men could be more unlike each other than my brother Stannis and myself. Did he bore you tremendously when you had supper with him?"

Renly already knew that there had hardly been a proper conversation between Lady Lannister and Stannis. According to a man of his who'd served she'd asked Stannis after ships, the Dragonstone bannermen and their unmarried daughters and she'd gotten short to the point replies. Only when she'd talked about Lord Steffon and praised Shireen had Stannis become more talkative, that is: sometimes he'd spoken more than four words in a row.

"Don't think too harshly of him, Lord Renly. I can see that in many ways he's not like you: he doesn't have your charm and your joy for life, but thoughtfulness and sobriety aren't to be looked down on."

Renly was pleased by the compliments as well as by the fact that Lady Lannister had unknowingly provided a link of sorts to another topic he wanted to discuss. "Stannis is a sober man indeed. I can't recall the last time I saw him smile. I'm more like our eldest brother, though I like to think that I don't rage at people like he does at times."

He meaningfully eyed his companion, who relented when he playfully cocked a brow.

"You heard about that did you?"

"I heard that our good king addressed you in his battle-voice..."

The lady took a sip of her water and didn't dare look at him.

"… because you said that he's nicknamed 'The Fat King'?"

On sparring with Ser Barristan – for the first time in countless months – Robert had told the Commander about Lady Lannister's revelation. Via a passing servant word had reached Renly.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have," the lady said, looking insecure. "He is my good-son yet I barely know him. It was a bit reckless to speak to him like that."

"Nonsense! I'm sure he found it charming! Besides: he took to sparring and rumour goes that he drinks less. I think he took your words to heart."

Renly wasn't worried about his brother's new physical routine: knowing Robert it wouldn't last more than a week. He rather liked the lioness's indiscretion for a smart player like himself might use it against her twins. Renly kindly smiled at the woman whose daughter and son would soon fall far, far from grace. Renly didn't bother to involve himself in it for that would only be tiresome. Let Baelish and Varys or Arryn and Stannis nail the incestuous bitch, all he cared for was what happened afterwards. He would marry the powerful south that was coming north and Robert, after the tragedy of being exposed as a cuckold, would drink and whore himself into obliviousness. No one liked Stannis, not even his own bannermen, and least of all Robert. Renly could picture himself supporting his royal brother by drinking with him and cursing the late Lannister twins and keeping his bed filled with a variety of lusty wenches. Give it a year at most and poor Robert would be twice his present size. Who would the people look at then? The radiantly handsome youngest brother.

"If so something good would come out of my… boldness."

Renly needed a moment to recall the topic. "It would," he then lied_. Have I covered everything now? Her grandchildren at the Rock. Stannis. The silly picnic. _"What present do you think I could give Myrcella? Would she care to have a bird from the Summer Islands?" He privately smiled when picturing Baelish's face and thought that after setting the man's fears to rest, he would deserve at least two presents from that part of the world himself.

"The princess is indeed fond of animals, but Winterfell's climate requires a different sort of pet, don't you think?"

Renly nodded, thinking of the night to come. Loras was magnificent, but there were so many enjoyable men around that Renly didn't mind his lover's absence for the time being. He nibbled at a juicy piece of fruit, picturing it to be someone's buttocks. Granny had continued talking but Renly only caught the last part of her line: " – you might get her something with the Baratheon shield and colours?"

_Never in my life. _"Her House's colours… Yes, that will do nicely."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note: I'd planned to make this chapter longer, but on editing it I discovered that I need to check some facts for one of the POVs. Another story (my The Big Bang Theory fanfic _An alternate Pennyverse_), took up most of my time however, so I only have a bit of Robert and a bit of Kevan for you this month.

ROBERT

He'd been told by his wife and his good-mother to spend time with Myrcella. As he and the girl walked in the gardens it hit him that he barely knew her. He tried to come up with something to say.

"You and Lord Stark are friends, aren't you Father?"

The girl looked up to him with a devotion that shamed Robert. He put his arm around Myrcella's slender shoulders. "Yes we are. As boys we were both fostered by Lord Arryn, the same who's now my Hand. We grew very close, Stark and I. We were like brothers."

Myrcella looked puzzled.

"Ha! Maybe I should say that I got closer to Ned Stark than to my true born brothers then."

"Are you still close?"

"I'd like to think so. I'm very happy that our families will be united through your marriage." Myrcella blushed. "Robb Stark is named after me, did you know?" At his daughter's nod Robert continued: "He's a good lad. Very northern but –"

"I know," Myrcella enthusiastically interrupted him. "Grandmother told me that northern people speak plainly and take their time to get to know strangers. She said they're a bit like uncle Stannis. I like him."

"Do you?"

Myrcella nodded. "He doesn't say nice things in your face and then speak ill behind your back."

Robert glanced down at his daughter, who resembled her mother in looks but was so unlike her in behaviour. "Wise words girl. I think you'll come to like the north very much. Is there anything you need ere you depart for beautiful Winterfell?"

"Will you and Mother and Tommen come and see me?"

"You don't care to see Joff?"

Myrcella shrugged ever so delicately. "Grandmother said she'd come and visit me some years from now."

Robert said that he too would come to Winterfell. He wasn't prepared for the hug he got. Instead of telling his daughter that it wasn't ladylike behaviour to exhibit in public, he returned it. Various courtiers who also enjoyed a stroll under the trees watched the scene. They were wise enough not to interrupt the father-daughter moment but as they bowed or curtsied they also listened.

"I hope Shireen might accompany me to Winterfell," Myrcella said when they were on their way again. She held his hand. "Grandmother promised me to ask uncle Stannis about it."

"Did she?"

Myrcella nodded happily. "Do you know great-uncle Gerion well?"

Robert had feasted with his wife's uncle. The man could hold his liquor and didn't shy away from women plus he wasn't a brilliant swordsman: a likeable Lannister all in all. "He's adventurous: he travelled to Essos and beyond. He'll be able to tell you many stories on your journey north. Say, would you care to ride with me tomorrow?" Myrcella seemed torn between eagerness to spend more time with him and dislike for the activity he'd suggested. "I'll make sure you'll be given a gentle horse." _It really won't do for a northern lady not to be able to ride. Besides Jon is gifting her saddles for her betrothal: she ought to use those._

"Thank you Father, I shall like that."

"Good girl."

KEVAN

Gerion's letter was mainly meant to reassure Tywin that Joanna was fine. Kevan was allowed to read it and he felt there was more to it. "Wasn't Joffrey to marry Sansa Stark according to the Grand Maester?"

"Joanna is disappointed in the way our daughter raised her eldest son," Tywin said.

"Not ready for marriage is he?"

"Hardly. According to her Myrcella will blossom outside King's Landing."

"Do you disapprove of the new marriage?" Kevan tentatively asked.

"Joanna judges this to be the better match. She doesn't know all the players though."

As Kevan placed Gerion's letter on his brother's desk he stole a glance at the message Tywin still held. It was in Joanna's hand and it included some lines filled with numbers. "Gerion's with her," Kevin reminded his brother.

"Far away from the Rock Gerion will visit inns and whorehouses. He won't be of much use to her."

Gerion disgraced Lord Lannister neither by being drunk at the Rock nor by bedding women there and on one occasion he'd made Tywin very proud. It was true though that Gerion's view on being a Lannister was like his view on life: something not to take seriously. The only two people who could voice their appreciation for Gerion without being frowned upon by Lord Lannister weren't present: Kevan knew that defending his youngest brother wouldn't make Tywin change his mind about him.

"What did my daughter write to you?" Tywin asked.

Kevan wasn't surprised that his brother had found out that Cersei had sent him a letter. He'd brought it with him and obediently handed it to Tywin, summarizing its contents: "She feels that her mother won't regain her memory in King's Landing, is better off at the Rock and shouldn't meddle with affairs of the state. The rest is about Joffrey's witty nature for some reason."

It only took Tywin a few moments to scan the letter. Kevan eyed him, hoping to learn why Cersei was gushing over the crown-prince. Of course Tywin's expression remained blank and he changed the topic. "I'm glad I sent Ser Gregor to protect her now that she's playing the game."

"Surely it was just grandmotherly –"

"How long did it take her?" Tywin interrupted. "She's plotting."

_And how much did she reveal to you my lord?_ "Do you think that she… suffered from her concussion?"

"No. You've seen her here. And _her_ writing doesn't imply it either," Tywin sternly said and he rose to walk to a window.

_Yet you are worried_.

Kevan joined his brother. At the courtyard below Mors was training with a knight. The twins were watching.

"I've never seen him look happier then when you told him for whom he is to squire. Only when Jaime got him his first real sword he was equally thrilled."

Myra and Alyn were applauding and possible cheering their brother, who seemed embarrassed by their behaviour.

"Mors is a young Jaime when it comes to wielding a weapon," Kevan remarked.

"Not quite. But he'll complement his elder brother. It will be good for Tybalt to have someone to rely on."

When Kevan later on told Dorna what Tywin had said, she voiced the thought that Kevan had kept to himself: that his brother had somehow given _him_ a compliment too.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note: Once again I haven't produced a long chapter. That's partly because I'm still focused on my completed TBBT stories about Penny and partly because I'm busy writing the next chapter of _Drottningville_. To get _The hand that rocks the Rock_ going after a delay of three months, here's a Jon as well as a Myrcella POV.

JON

"Have you heard?" Baelish asked as they awaited the arrival of others members of the Small Council.

"Pray tell you've got a gossip for us," Lord Renly said.

"Not as such. Lady Lannister was asked by her giant of a guard to ask Lady Stokeworth if she would be inclined to marry –"

"No!" Renly cried out. Jon briefly looked up from his paperwork but Varys continued to read his documents._ He'll know all about it already._

"Lollys! Don't tell me! Capital! Lady Lannister for all your love… Help me Baelish. I need something with an L."

"Lady Lannister's love laboratory!"

Jon repressed a smile. Let them think that Lady Lannister spend her time arranging marriages for her Westerlanders. Stannis entered, looking displeased by the merriment displayed by his brother and Lord Baelish. Varys told him what it was about.

"Isn't Lollys Stokeworth dim witted?" Stannis asked.

"Who cares brother? She'll breed all right."

"Is that what you seek in a wife? A dumb broodmare? You would have had plenty of opportunities to marry in that case."

Renly and Baelish eyed each other and burst out in laughter again. The Grand Maester walked in and inquired why the young lords were so amused.

"We were talking about marriages my lord," Renly said. "None other than the wife of the esteemed Warden of the West offered to find me a spouse. She'd do the same for you Grand Maester if you weren't meant to remain unmarried."

"Have you accepted her offer?" Baelish asked before either Pycelle had a chance to reply or Renly could mention the Mountain.

"A man in my position must marry one day."

Baelish smiled at that.

"Lady Lannister is to have tea with Lady Arryn this afternoon," Varys remarked.

"How delightful!" Renly exclaimed.

"I've heard that she will bring Princess Myrcella and Lady Shireen with her."

Renly grinned. "A devoted match maker, a boy who's not been promised yet and a girl who's not engaged either. Shall we lay a bet?"

Ser Barristan entered, once more followed by the king.

"A bet Renly? Tell me."

"If it pleases you Your Majesty. Your good-mother will take Princess Myrcella and Lady Shireen to meet Lady Arryn, who, devoted mother as she is, no doubt allows Lord Arryn's heir to be present."

"The bet part?"

"Isn't it obvious Robert? She's trying to make a match between our niece and the Hand's son."

The king burst out laughing. "What say you Jon, Stannis? Could you approve of the match? It seems a good one."

_It's a good diversion. She could have told us about it though._ "During my one encounter with Lady Shireen I did take a liking to her. But Lady Lannister will know this is not up to her."

The king made a throatily sound. "Don't worry. She told me that she and Lord Lannister are thinking of a bride from either the Riverlands or the Storm Lands for Ser Jaime's eldest son. She might want to marry Shireen to Tybalt."

The Grand Maester nodded his approval. _He'd also approve of marrying Shireen to a stable boy if his Lady proposed that. _When the Grand Maester eyed him, Jon, as if to ask what he made of it, Jon, feeling lost, both shrugged and nodded.

"Anything else to entertain me Renly?" the king asked.

Renly related the story of Ser Gregor seeking a wife. It made Robert whistle. "He'll break her in their wedding night."

"She's hardly delicately build Your Grace," Varys pointed out. "Have you read the report I sent you?"

"Aye. Half of it anyway. What were you trying to do, bore me out of my mind?"

_That just might be the case_. Ever since Robert had announced Myrcella's marriage, Varys and Baelish as well had increased their paperwork as if to discourage him from involving himself in the ruling of the realm. Jon was impressed that Robert had read part of the report. _He's improving himself. I must find a way to make him keep up with it._

"My queen told me that the Rose is on his way here. To do what?"

"I'm sure he comes over to pay his respects Your Grace."

"You can do better Varys."

"Maybe Lord Tyrell lost his memory too?" Lord Renly suggested.

"It's hardly a plague," Lord Stannis muttered.

"Lord Tyrell does have unmarried children…" Baelish said.

"Stop it: no more wedding nonsense," the king ordered. "What I came here for: several weeks ago the master of ships informed me that sailors spread word that the late beggar's sister hatched three dragons. I told him to tell you so you could confirm it."

"And so Lord Stannis has."

"Well?"

"My birds are flying Your Grace."

"Seven Hells Varys, how long will it take? Do you still think that Daenerys is a harmless girl who doesn't deserve to be killed Jon?"

Jon sat up a little straighter. "If I may Your Grace, you were glad that Princess Daenera had no surviving children."

"I wouldn't have liked to start my reign in a pool of children's blood no. If something's necessary it's necessary though. There was a war and children die in wars, smallfolk and royalty alike."

"There is no war now, Your Majesty," Varys said.

"People get killed every day and that dragon girl would be dead too if your assassin hadn't failed. Have you sent another one already?"

"I tried Your Grace, I did: I enlarged the reward but with the way the assassin was taken care of by the Dothraki I doubt there will be more murderers brave enough to try," the eunuch said.

"The Khal is dead, Dothraki won't follow a woman and there aren't any dragons," Renly said. "Some merchant saw some huge lizards near the girl and when he mentioned that in a harbour tavern a dragon tale was created."

"I bloody well hope so. The Starks having five dire-wolfs is wonderful but a Targaryen with three dragons is not to my liking. What of your spy?"

"My birds – "

"Are flying, yes, yes. The next time I expect something better Varys!" Robert rose, holding up a hand to indicate that the others could remain seated. "Now my lords, I'm off to spar with my sons."

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry for delaying you," Varys said, "but would Lady Lannister have mentioned dragons to you?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"She's not interested in the topic either?"

Robert shrugged. "What would she know of dragons? Living dragons that is."

"Ah. There you say a true thing Your Majesty. You see… I happened to overhear the lady talk to the princes. Prince Tommen said that he'd love to fly on a dragon. The imagination of children is delightful. If only we could all –"

"The point?"

"Ah yes. Well… Lady Lannister pointed out that dragons do not exist anymore but I happen to have information, rumours if you like, but rumours must be checked, as you so deftly feel regarding Daenerys's so called dragons, that the lady showed a keen interest in the Mad King's surviving children. That she provided them help."

Baelish looked amused. Renly's expression showed surprise. Ser Barristan frowned and the Grand Maester looked alarmed. Stannis could have been made of stone.

"What do you mean?" Robert asked.

_Yes, what do you want to accomplish Varys?_

Varys sighed sadly.

"Do you mean that she aided Willem Darry?" Baelish said, sounding disgusted. Jon wondered whether he was listening to rehearsed lines.

"Her husband would have disapproved," Renly remarked.

"A lady may have secrets even for her lord husband… And let's not forget that Queen Rhaella was her friend for many years. Women of course are sentimental when it comes to friendship."

Jon eyed Ser Barristan and Pycelle. Both men had been in the Red Keep when Rhaella had sent Joanna Lannister away but to counter Varys's accusation of Lady Lannister being a Dragon's friend they'd had to refer to gossip that showed the lady in an unfavourable light. Rumours of the dismissal had even reached the Eyrie at the time. Jon wasn't surprised when the two Councilmembers remained silent, though Pycelle was clearly struggling to come up with a defence for the lady.

"I'll question her about it," Robert angrily said. "Good-mother or not, I won't tolerate Targaryen supporters near me."

"Well spoken Your Grace," Varys said. "One can never be too cautious."

MYRCELLA

That she and her new friend were allowed to accompany her grandmother to visit the Hand's wife had pleased her in advance but being in Lady Arryn's apartment Myrcella couldn't wait to leave. If only Lady Arryn had agreed to grandmother's request to have tea in the gardens, for it was stifling warm in here and smelly too. Grandmother had suggested that some fresh air would benefit young Robert Arryn. "No it won't," Lady Arryn had said and she'd seated herself on a sofa, gesturing her visitors to take a seat opposite her. Their sofa was, as Myrcella found out, not very comfortable and lower than the one occupied by their host. Grandmother however, thanks to her length, still sat higher than the Hand's Lady. Myrcella liked that, but she kept her face neutral, even when young Robert stuck out his tongue at her and Shireen. Behind him and his mother stood a nurse and two ladies of Lady Arryn's household.

"My lord husband told me that you've lost your memory," Lady Arryn opened the pleasantries.

"Indeed. Fortunately I haven't lost it entirely."

"A quarter of a century gone lost isn't what I'd call fortunate. You didn't even know you had grandchildren I imagine?" Without waiting for a reply Lady Arryn caressed her son's head. "I would never ever forget about you my Sweetrobin!" she said in a voice that had lost its previous sharpness. "A loving mother ought not do that."

Myrcella glanced at her grandmother, who didn't seem disturbed in the least. It made her relax.

"You came here to get reacquainted with your children and grandchildren? Speaking of the latter: how's your itch?"

The ladies who stood behind Lady Arryn looked alarmed.

"I travelled here in hopes that seeing Her Majesty, Ser Jaime, my nephews and the royal highnesses would make me regain my memory."

"Lord Baelish told me that the last visit you must recall was that of 272 after the Conquest. The Mad King was rude toward you, wasn't he?" Lady Arryn giggled a bit. One of her companions asked her lady whether she'd like some cake.

"No!" Lady Arryn cried out. The rage on her face was replaced by glee. "He said that your bosom had suffered after weening your children." The lady giggled and her son, taking his thumb out of his mouth, followed suit. "Tits, tits, tits," he chanted.

Myrcella tensed, as did Shireen and the three women behind Lady Arryn. "That cake looks delicious," Grandmother kindly told the youngest of the ladies. Myrcella shared a glance with her friend when Lady Arryn had the lady serve the first slice to her son. They both looked at Grandmother, who was studying a wall carpet as if she was unaware of the slight. When Robert started throwing crumbs at Myrcella and Shireen, Grandmother casually asked: "Is that a custom in the Eyrie?"

Lady Arryn frowned but she did entreat her son to stop. "This is your favourite Sweetrobin. It's a waste to throw it at them."

At least the cake tasted good. Myrcella felt it was a nice distraction.

"Dragonstone must be the most unattractive part of Westeros," Lady Arryn spat, looking straight at Shireen. Myrcella shewed harder so she might help her friend though she did not know what to say in her defence.

"It is a vital stronghold," Grandmother replied. "I've seen it once and I found it impressive."

While Shireen looked grateful Lady Arryn made a disapproving sound.

"Have you travelled at lot Lady Arryn? Have you visited Winterfell?"

"No I haven't," the lady said. "We might go there one day, won't we Sweetrobin?" She then looked at Myrcella, who found strength in her grandmother's presence.

"You'll find it primitive compared to King's Landing. No singers, no musicians. And it's cold. People and weather both."

_What would Grandmother say? _"I look forward to living there."  
Myrcella felt warm all over when her grandmother smiled at her approvingly. Robert nagged for more cake and his mother obliged.

"You're young and inexperienced. You'll learn. It's a good match though. That's something you won't have," Lady Arryn said, addressing Shireen. Her hand caressed her own puffy yet smooth cheek and her eyes gleamed with glee.

"Lady Shireen may not be a princess, she is niece to the king and cousin to the next king. She'll make a fine match. Especially since she's intelligent and kind."

Had it been proper Myrcella would have hugged her grandmother for her reply.

"Men don't seek intelligence in their wives."

"I agree that some men don't. But I think yours does."

This brought a small smile to Lady Arryn's lips.

_Does Grandmother think that Lady Arryn is intelligent?_

"There are more men in the Small Council who appreciate a woman's skills Lady Lannister."

"I think so too. We can't be too strict for the men in the Red Keep."

Lady Arryn smiled at Lady Lannister, who then asked her opinion on various craftsmen. With Robert having fallen asleep, his head on his mother's lap, and with the Hand's wife only paying attention to Lady Lannister the afternoon tea became bearable.


End file.
